The Widow’s Offering

21 Jesus looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box, 2 and he saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. 3 And he said, “Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them. 4 For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”

Jesus Foretells Destruction of the Temple

5 And while some were speaking of the temple, how it was adorned with noble stones and offerings, he said, 6 “As for these things that you see, the days will come when there will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.” 7 And they asked him, “Teacher, when will these things be, and what will be the sign when these things are about to take place?” 8 And he said, “See that you are not led astray. For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is at hand!’ Do not go after them. 9 And when you hear of wars and tumults, do not be terrified, for these things must first take place, but the end will not be at once.”

Jesus Foretells Wars and Persecution

10 Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. 11 There will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and pestilences. And there will be terrors and great signs from heaven. 12 But before all this they will lay their hands on you and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors for my name’s sake. 13 This will be your opportunity to bear witness. 14 Settle it therefore in your minds not to meditate beforehand how to answer, 15 for I will give you a mouth and wisdom, which none of your adversaries will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be delivered up even by parents and brothers and relatives and friends, and some of you they will put to death. 17 You will be hated by all for my name’s sake. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your lives.

Jesus Foretells Destruction of Jerusalem

20 “But when you see Jerusalem surrounded by armies, then know that its desolation has come near. 21 Then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains, and let those who are inside the city depart, and let not those who are out in the country enter it, 22 for these are days of vengeance, to fulfill all that is written. 23 Alas for women who are pregnant and for those who are nursing infants in those days! For there will be great distress upon the earth and wrath against this people. 24 They will fall by the edge of the sword and be led captive among all nations, and Jerusalem will be trampled underfoot by the Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled.

The Coming of the Son of Man

25 “And there will be signs in sun and moon and stars, and on the earth distress of nations in perplexity because of the roaring of the sea and the waves, 26 people fainting with fear and with foreboding of what is coming on the world. For the powers of the heavens will be shaken. 27 And then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. 28 Now when these things begin to take place, straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

The Lesson of the Fig Tree

29 And he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree, and all the trees. 30 As soon as they come out in leaf, you see for yourselves and know that the summer is already near. 31 So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. 32 Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all has taken place. 33 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

Watch Yourselves

34 “But watch yourselves lest your hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and cares of this life, and that day come upon you suddenly like a trap. 35 For it will come upon all who dwell on the face of the whole earth. 36 But stay awake at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are going to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”

37 And every day he was teaching in the temple, but at night he went out and lodged on the mount called Olivet. 38 And early in the morning all the people came to him in the temple to hear him.

When Wladziu Valentino died, entrepreneurs leased the Los Angeles Convention Center to display the 25,000 to 30,000 objects left from his estate. This was an event for the well-heeled of L.A. Why? Mr. Valentino was better known as Liberace. Thousands of people willingly paid six dollars each for the privilege of viewing the lavish remains of Liberace’s materialism. This was followed by an auction at Christie’s where another admission charge of ten dollars was levied in an attempt to lessen the size of the enthusiastic crowd. In a frenzied auction, a king’s ransom was paid by the bejeweled crowd for the eight warehouses of Liberace’s belongings.

At that incredible event money literally spoke, as money was the only speech acknowledged by the auctioneer. It also spoke in other ways, for it eloquently revealed volumes about the heart of the deceased entertainer and the hearts of the competing bidders.

“Money speaks” is more than a cliché. It is an axiom of the heart. Jesus said, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). During the last decade Americans spent over $180 billion dollars per year on gambling, fifteen times more than it gave to its churches. That is a tragic declaration of the heart of this country. Money speaks!

Aware of this, the Lord chose the temple treasury for his departing shot at his detractors before leaving the temple for good. Money—giving—reveals the state of the heart as few other things can. Thus Jesus chose this setting to contrast the phony righteousness of the religious leaders, who “devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers” (20:47), with true devotion to God as exemplified in the life of one poor widow.

“As he looked up, Jesus saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury” (v. 1). The treasury where they placed their offerings consisted of thirteen brass treasure chests called trumpets because they were shaped like inverted horns, narrow at the top and enlarged at the bottom. According to the Mishnah, each of the chests bore inscriptions designating what the offerings were for: “ ‘New Shekel dues,’ ‘Old Shekel dues,’ ‘Bird offerings,’ ‘Young birds for the whole offering,’ ‘Wood,’ ‘Frankincense,’ ‘Gold for the Mercy-seat,’ and, on six of them ‘Freewill-offerings.’ ”

Because of the Passover the treasury was a most busy place as both local inhabitants and pilgrims crowded past the thirteen shopharoth (chests) and inserted their offerings into the narrow brass mouths made shiny by the constant friction of worshipers’ hands. Here amidst the noisy din, Jesus could easily observe the givers without drawing attention to himself. Have you ever sat at an airport or a shopping mall and watched the people over your newspaper or coffee? Such times can be most intriguing.

Jesus was observant. He not only noted people’s actions but assessed their motives. Neither the widow (the principal focus of Jesus’ attention) nor the rest of the people had any idea they were being watched. We too are being watched in our least conscious moments. As George MacDonald said: “When we feel as if God is nowhere, He is watching over us with an eternal consciousness, above and beyond our every hope and fear” (cf. Psalm 139:1–6). What a staggering moment it is for a worshiping soul when one first awakes to this reality. Jesus really is watching us. As Hannah said in her prayer, the Lord is weighing our actions (1 Samuel 2:3). And later David prayed, “You perceive my thoughts from afar” (Psalm 139:2). Every action is important, and every action is seen by the One to whom we will give account.

JESUS OBSERVES (VV. 1, 2)

What did Jesus see as he watched the worshipers make their deposits? Initially he saw “the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury” (v. 1). We should not assume that he disapproved of all the offerings of the wealthy. Very likely there were some who had noble motivations.

But Jesus also saw much that displeased him. Public giving, such as this setting required, promotes self-conscious ostentation—like the man who stood up in a meeting where they were taking subscriptions for donations and said, “I want to give $100—anonymously.” What would happen to our great national charities today without celebrity benefits, or published subscribers’ lists, or bronze plaques, or pictures of donors holding three-foot-long checks or standing beside crippled children?

The huge Passover crowds and the public display made possible by the thirteen trumpets created an opportunity for outrageous preening and posturing. Imagine the hush that came over the crowd when a notable person approached, perhaps with an offering too heavy to carry himself, and the audible gasp as the shekels crashed into the brass trumpets. Can you see the pious countenances of the rich givers, their satisfied, restrained “see if you can top that” expressions?

The rich, fashionable religious world of Jerusalem and the Jewish diaspora paraded before Jesus’ eyes. It was a world of souls in peril. The ability to give on a scale that is not possible for others can produce a delusion of superiority and spiritual safety—“I have done what others cannot—so my soul is superior and my eternity secure.” Such people can develop a sense of intrinsic goodness, when in actuality they are evil.

But as Jesus watched, he noticed something that made his heart applaud: “He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins” (v. 2). Jesus, and anyone else who happened to see her, knew she was a poverty-stricken widow because widows wore distinctive clothing, in her case undoubtedly worn and tattered. The life of widows in Biblical times was proverbially difficult. This woman’s beauty of soul makes us wonder where she lived and how, and what had been her suffering. Her offering was two coins, so small they were called lepta (literally, “peeled” or “fine,” the idea being a tiny thin coin). The miniature lepton was worth only one four-hundredth of a shekel, or about one-eighth of a cent. The two lepta represented barely anything—like today’s pennies that most do not even bother to pick up.

She undoubtedly approached the trumpets quietly, almost stealthily, head bowed, hoping to draw no attention to herself. Though she did not know Jesus was watching, she knew God saw her, and that was who she came to please. Seen in the context of the grasping greed of the teachers of the Law who were devouring widows’ houses, her gift unwittingly slammed the religious establishment.

Her motivation for such giving could only be love. There is no other explanation. She (not the religious leaders) was living out the Shema, loving God with all she was and had. When she slipped the two coins into the mouth of the “trumpet,” they fell inaudibly against the shekels of the rich. The temple was, in effect, no richer, but she was immeasurably poorer, for she had given all!

J. A. Bengel, an early eighteenth-century commentator, beautifully noted that she gave “two—one of which the widow might have retained.” She gave everything! She was silently saying to God, “I love you. Here’s my heart, my life. It’s not much, but it’s all I have.”

The Passover crowd had been oohing and aahing over the generosity of the rich, and Jesus had remained unmoved. But when the widow passed by, though he sat still, inwardly he was on his feet applauding. This widow was a rare flower in a desert of official devotion, and her beauty made his heart rejoice.

JESUS’ CONCLUSIONS (VV. 3, 4)

“ ‘I tell you the truth,’ he said, ‘this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on’ ” (vv. 3, 4). Jesus held in his hands the balance scales of eternity. On one side he emptied all the contents of the thirteen trumpets—the shekels, the denarii, the heavy gold and silver. On the other side he placed the two minuscule copper coins. And the massive load of the rich gave way to the eternal weight of the widow’s tiny offerings.

John Calvin correctly saw Jesus’ words as double-edged, encouraging to those who have little, but a sobering exhortation to those with much. He remarks:

The lesson is useful in two ways. The Lord encourages the poor, who appear to lack the means of doing well, not to doubt that they testify to their enthusiasm for Him even with a slender contribution. If they consecrate themselves, their offering which appears mean and trivial will be no less precious than if they had offered all the treasures of Croesus. On the other hand, those who have a richer supply and stand out for their large giving are told that it is not enough if their generosity far exceeds the commoners and the underprivileged, for with God it rates less for a rich man to give a moderate sum from a large mass, than for a poor man to exhaust himself in paying out something very small.

Realizing that Jesus’ commendation cuts both ways calls for some soul-searching observations.

First, when it comes to giving, the posture of our hearts makes all the difference. When I write a check to the I.R.S., that agency does not care at all about my heart’s attitude. It does not care whether I give willingly or grudgingly, lovingly or hatefully, joyfully or sadly. All the I.R.S. is interested in is the bottom line. Just pay up! Not so with the Lord! The world sees the quantity, but the Lord sees quality. “If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:3). But if I give a penny with the widowheart, it is great gain to me and to God.

Not what we give, but what we share,

For the gift without the giver is bare;

Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,

Himself, his hungering neighbour, and Me.

God weighs our motivations. This truth is either a terror or a comfort. Which way does it strike you?

Secondly, giving that pleases God is giving that costs us. We must give in such a way that we go without something we would like to hang on to—travels forgone, clothing and cars that wait another season, pleasures put off. Joseph Parker of City Temple made this unflinching declaration: “The gold of affluence which is given because it is not needed, God hurls to the bottomless pit; but the copper tinged with blood He lifts and kisses into the gold of eternity.”

Centuries earlier, King David said it all in response to Araunah the Jebusite’s generous offer of his threshing floor as a site on which to build an altar to God, as well as the animals to sacrifice there. David answered, “No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing” (2 Samuel 24:24). Giving that costs us is giving that pleases God.

C. S. Lewis offers this sage advice:

I do not believe one can settle how much we ought to give. I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare. In other words, if our expenditure on comforts, luxuries, amusements, etc., is up to the standard common among those with the same income as our own, we are probably giving away too little. If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditure excludes them.

Thirdly, God can do great things with tiny offerings. Those two pennies (totaling together a quarter of a cent), given quietly with the widow’s motive, have produced more for the kingdom in the intervening 2,000 years than all the other gifts presented that Passover week. Down through the ages those two little coins have been multiplied into billions and billions for God’s work as humble people have been liberated to give from their little or their much. The Lord has converted those two coins into a perennial wealth of instruction and motivation for his Church.

If there is love and sacrifice on the part of the giver, there will be spiritual power in the gift. In this respect we can say that what the church needs is not larger gifts, but gifts given with the sacrificial attitude of the poor widow. Jesus meant to encourage all of us with his commendation of this godly woman.

Fourthly, at the Judgment, Christ will square his accounts. There is no evidence that the woman ever knew what Jesus thought of her gift. There is no evidence that she ever became a prosperous woman in this life. In fact, since the final judgment and the ultimate bestowing of eternal rewards is still future for the whole Church, there is every possibility that she does not know to this very day what we know about her. The Judgment is going to reveal her work—the architecture of a beautiful soul adorned with gold, silver, and precious stones (cf. 1 Corinthians 3:11–14).

The memory of the widow’s giving stayed with Jesus as he went from the temple to the judgment hall and to the Mount of Calvary. She, to use his words, “put in all she had to live on,” and he gave all he had too, even his life! Someday he is going to say to her, “I saw what you did!” The crown of our widow-sister will be glorious!

Fifthly, God is sublimely “equal opportunity.” There is no advantage to the poor or the rich, to the unlettered or the educated, to the unknown or known in the matter of giving. Billy Graham has no advantage over the humblest believer, and vice versa. The questions are: How do we give? Grudgingly or willingly? Does our giving cost us anything? What will the Judgment reveal? What is our attitude when we are not being watched?

CLOSING REFLECTIONS

Is it possible for the Church to love and give like the widow? Has it ever done so? The history of the apostolic church answers with a resounding yes! Paul told the Corinthians:

And now, brothers, we want you to know about the grace that God has given the Macedonian churches. Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity. For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability. Entirely on their own, they urgently pleaded with us for the privilege of sharing in this service to the saints. And they did not do as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then to us in keeping with God’s will. (2 Corinthians 8:1–5)

God does not want our money. He wants us. And yet we cannot give ourselves to him apart from our money. It is true that money speaks. It tells us where are hearts are. What does our giving say about us?

Jesus sits across from the treasury of every church and watches. What does he see in your church? In your life?

38

The Olivet Discourse

LUKE 21:5–38

According to Earle Ellis, the venerable New Testament scholar, the so-called Olivet Discourse, recorded in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, “has been the subject of more scholarly debate than perhaps any other passage in the Gospels.” This is because of the rich nature of the prophetic language that Jesus used (virtually every verse has multiple allusions to both the Old Testament and to other Jewish apocalyptic literature), and because of the nature of prophecy itself—multiple fulfillments culminating in a final fulfillment. The fact is, we have yet to find a scholar who can perfectly unravel the knotty problems of the Olivet Discourse. Study of it requires a proper humility and a willingness to admit that we do not have all the answers. We must mind Chesterton’s dictum: “It is only the fool who tries to get the heavens inside his head, and not unnaturally his head bursts. The wise man is content to get his head inside the heavens.” In this chapter we will try the latter.

During the preceding days Jesus had made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, cleansed the temple, and entered into several debates with the religious establishment that he repeatedly won. Then, by exalting the poor widow and her offering, he passed judgment on the religious leadership of Israel. Now Jesus left the temple for good. The cross awaited him. And the Olivet Discourse formed a fitting bridge to Jesus’ final days. It was his final address, his farewell prophecy.

The occasion for the discourse was his disciples’ admiration of the temple. “Some of his disciples were remarking about how the temple was adorned with beautiful stones and with gifts dedicated to God” (v. 5). Mark’s account is more specific: “As he was leaving the temple, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!’ ” (13:1).

There was no hyperbole in this. The temple was considered one of the great wonders of the Roman world. It had been under reconstruction for forty-six years (cf. John 2:20) and was nearing completion, which would come in A.D. 63, a mere seven years before it was destroyed. Its spectacular location on Mt. Moriah gave it an imposing dominance over ancient Jerusalem. From a distance it looked like a mountain of gold, because its nine massive gates3 and much of its exterior were plated with gold and silver and jeweled sculptures such as the famous grapevine bearing a cluster the size of a man. Josephus wrote:

The exterior of the building wanted nothing that could astound either mind or eye. For, being covered on all sides with massive plates of gold, the sun was no sooner up than it radiated so fiery a flash that persons straining to look at it were compelled to avert their eyes, as from the solar rays. To approaching strangers it appeared from a distance like a snow-clad mountain; for all that was not overlaid with gold was of purest white. From its summit protruded sharp golden spikes to prevent birds from settling upon and polluting the roof. Some of the stones in the building were forty-five cubits in length, five in height and six in breadth.

The incredible size of the foundation’s stones, almost the size of boxcars, was breathtaking.

The temple was indeed a wonder. But if the disciples hoped to raise Jesus’ spirit by their admiration, they failed. Jesus’ unexpected response left them flabbergasted: “As for what you see here, the time will come when not one stone will be left on another; every one of them will be thrown down” (v. 6). Jesus’ words were tragically true. When Titus first conquered Jerusalem, he ordered that the temple be preserved, but it was gutted by a fire set by one of his soldiers. As a result, Titus “ordered the whole city and temple to be razed to the ground,” a task especially carried out in respect to the temple as soldiers driven by avarice pulled the stones apart in an attempt to reclaim the melted gold.

Mark’s Gospel tells us that the inner circle of disciples was so riveted by this astounding prophecy that they sought a private audience with Jesus that providentially took place on the Mount of Olives (13:3). Rising 150 feet higher than Jerusalem, the mountain afforded a dramatic view of the temple. So there, with the ivory and gold temple lying below them, the disciples asked Jesus the questions that precipitated the Olivet Discourse: “ ‘Teacher,’ they asked, ‘when will these things happen? And what will be the sign that they are about to take place?’ ” (v. 7). We need to keep this stunning scene and these questions before us as we proceed. What will be the times and the signs that will precede the destruction of the temple? We should also remember that it was on this very mount that the Shekinah glory had departed from the temple 600 years before (Ezekiel 11:22–25). Also, it would be upon the Mount of Olives that the Lord would return (Zechariah 14:6).

Jesus would answer their questions, but some of his replies would go far beyond their initial inquiries, instructing his Church about his return. We will also see that Jesus was not interested in giving date-setting details, but in encouraging his own to be steadfast and faithful until he returns. Jesus spoke pastorally.

THE PERIOD PRIOR TO THE TEMPLE’S DESTRUCTION (VV. 8–24)

Historical Insight and Perspective

Jesus began by giving them insight regarding the tumultuous events in history and life—namely, they were not to be deceived by false teachers or continued wars or catastrophes or cosmic signs into believing that the end had come.

• False teachers: “He replied: ‘Watch out that you are not deceived. For many will come in my name, claiming, “I am he,” and “The time is near.” Do not follow them’ ” (v. 8).

• Wars: “ ‘When you hear of wars and revolutions, do not be frightened. These things must happen first, but the end will not come right away.’ Then he said to them: ‘Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom’ ” (vv. 9, 10).

• Catastrophes: “There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places” (v. 11a).

• Cosmic signs: “… and fearful events and great signs from heaven” (v. 11b).

It is easy to think the end has arrived when we personally experience such things. But wars, for example, have always been with us. Will Durant wrote: “War is one of the constants of history, and has not diminished with civilization and democracy. In the last 3,421 years of recorded history only 268 have seen no war.” And that is not even taking into account unrecorded history! The Jews suffered from Rome’s interior wars and the deadly internal struggles in Palestine.

When you or I are touched by war, it is so easy to think apocalyptically—“Surely the end of the world is here!” This is how the Russians felt in the Napoleonic wars, and how many believers felt in Germany in 1945. This is all very natural, but sometimes our thinking becomes absurd, like one man who told me that the return of the Lord must be imminent because our national debt is out of hand. This is narcissistic, self-centered, money-clip eschatology!

It is tempting to regard natural catastrophes the same way. During the years between Christ’s death and the destruction of the temple, there was a terrible earthquake in Laodicea, Vesuvius buried Pompeii, and there was a famine in Rome itself. These events did not mean the end of all things. Neither would it mean the end if California fell into the sea and you could sail to Hawaii from Las Vegas! But sadly, with the rise of every war and earthquake there comes an increase of false christs who say they have the answer.

Toss in “fearful events and great signs from heaven” and people can be led into incredible absurdities. Several years ago the convergence of Holy Week, the vernal equinox, a partial lunar eclipse, and the extraordinary Hale-Bopp comet lighting the night skies provided the architecture of apocalypse for the Heaven’s Gate cult.

We must never allow ourselves to interpret the tumultuous events of life as meaning it is all over. These things are the result of man’s sin and will continue to the end of time. “Watch out that you are not deceived,” says Jesus (v. 8).

Personal Insight

Jesus then gave his followers further insight into what would befall them in the natural course of following him:

“But before all this, they will lay hands on you and persecute you. They will deliver you to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors, and all on account of my name. This will result in your being witnesses to them. But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves. For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict. You will be betrayed by parents, brothers, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. All men will hate you because of me.” (vv. 12–17)

His disciples would face religious persecution—ironically, at the hands of the local Sanhedrins and synagogues that should have been havens for them. They would also suffer under the secular state and bear powerful witness. This persecution would mean their forced dispersion, and thus the gospel would be preached to the Gentiles, fulfilling prophecy.

Persecuted disciples would dazzle their interrogators with their wisdom—for example, Peter and John before the Sanhedrin (Acts 4:13), Stephen before the Sanhedrin (Acts 6:10; 7:2–54), Paul before Agrippa (Acts 25:13–26:32), and Martin Niemoller before Hitler.

They would also experience intense personal hatred. The radical commitment that the gospel demands can disrupt even the most natural and sacred human relationships, and still does. Announce your conversion in a Muslim country or in a hard-line Communist country and Jesus’ words take on a terrible reality. Jesus said on another occasion:

“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn ‘a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.’ ” (Matthew 10:34–36)

In saying, “All men will hate you,” Jesus meant people in general. Christians sometimes receive favorable press, but they should never forget that the same media powers can quickly turn the world against them. Jesus said, “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you” (John 15:18, 19). Any follower of Christ who follows his example will suffer persecution. But that person will also know what Paul called “the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings” (Philippians 3:10), a state that Jesus said was “blessed” (Matthew 5:10, 11). Though some of Jesus’ followers would die, Jesus told them, “But not a hair on your head will perish” (v. 18; cf. 12:4, 7; 1 Samuel 14:45; 2 Samuel 14:11; 1 Kings 1:52). This was the case for Stephen (Acts 7:54–60) and James the son of Zebedee (Acts 12:1, 2), because though their bodies died, their souls lived on in heaven with God forever.

Jesus ended this part of his warning by saying, “By standing firm you will save yourselves” (v. 19). Rather than being blown away by persecution (religious, secular, or domestic), we are to persevere, to endure, to stand firm. The Christian life is not a sprint but a marathon. And by refusing to give up, we will continue to enjoy the eternal life we cannot lose. Over the years I have been repeatedly surprised by acquaintances who have dropped by the wayside. Jesus’ warning is painfully relevant. Regardless of one’s theological construct, a warning given by the Apostle John must be taken to heart: “They went out from us, but they did not really belong to us. For if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us; but their going showed that none of them belonged to us” (1 John 2:19). True believers keep on going on through thick and thin. We should pray that we will finish well.

That I should end before I finish or

Finish, but not well.

That I should stain your honor, shame your name,

Grieve your loving heart.

Few, they tell me, finish well.…

Lord, let me get home before dark.

Eleventh-Hour Insight

Having imparted insight for living the “normal” Christian life in tumultuous times, Jesus gave insight for living in the eleventh hour before the temple’s destruction. He began, “When you see Jerusalem being surrounded by armies, you will know that its desolation is near” (v. 20). To understand the word “desolation,” we have to examine the parallel passage Mark 13:14—“ ‘the abomination that causes desolation.’ ” This is a quotation from Daniel 9:27 and 11:31 that described a coming figure who would desecrate the temple and abolish the daily sacrifices there. It meant an abomination so detestable that it would cause the temple to be abandoned by the people of God and provoke desolation.

This had happened 150 years earlier when the Seleucid King Antiochus IV Epiphanes conquered Jerusalem and attempted to Hellenize the people, forbidding them to circumcise their children (1 Maccabees 1:60) or offer Levitical sacrifices (1 Maccabees 1:45), and forcing them to sacrifice swine (1 Maccabees 1:47). In the words of the writer of 1 Maccabees, “On the fifteenth day of Chislev [possibly December] in the one hundred and forty-fifth year, they erected a desolating sacrilege upon the altar of burnt offering” (1:54). It was a statue of Zeus and probably an image of Antiochus himself!

The sense of Jesus’ warning in verse 20—“When you see Jerusalem surrounded by armies, you will know that its desolation is near”—was: when the Roman legions begin to encircle the city, a new desolation is about to take place. His warning was to get out of the city before the encirclement was complete.

“Then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains, let those in the city get out, and let those in the country not enter the city. For this is the time of punishment in fulfillment of all that has been written. How dreadful it will be in those days for pregnant women and nursing mothers! There will be great distress in the land and wrath against this people. They will fall by the sword and will be taken as prisoners to all the nations. Jerusalem will be trampled on by the Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled.” (vv. 21–24)

The fourth-century historian Eusebius records that Christians gave heed to this warning:

The people of the church in Jerusalem were commanded by an oracle given by revelation before the war to those in the city … to depart and dwell in one of the cities of Perea which they called Pella. To it those who believed on Christ migrated from Jerusalem, that when holy men had altogether deserted the royal capital of the Jews and the whole land of Judea, the judgment of God might at last overtake them for all their crimes against the Christ and his Apostles, and all that generation of the wicked be utterly blotted out from among men.

Josephus describes the people as leaving the city “as swimmers deserting a sinking ship,” an image that accords well with Jesus’ command to leave everything behind.

The horror that Jesus predicted for Jerusalem came with the fall of the temple and is a matter of historical fact. The roofs were thronged with famished women with babes in arms, and the alleys with corpses of the elderly. Children and young people swollen from starvation “roamed like phantoms through the market-places and collapsed wherever their doom overtook them.” But there was no lamenting or wailing, because famine had strangled their emotions. Jerusalem could not bury all the bodies, so they were flung over the wall. The silence was broken only by the laughter of robbers stripping the bodies.

Though “the times of the Gentiles” began with Jesus’ death when the veil of the temple was torn from top to bottom and with his subsequent resurrection, the symbol of this was the Gentiles’ trampling Jerusalem when they destroyed the temple. According to Romans 11, this era is a time of evangelizing the Gentiles:

Israel has experienced a hardening in part until the full number of the Gentiles has come in. And so all Israel will be saved, as it is written: “The deliverer will come from Zion; he will turn godlessness away from Jacob. And this is my covenant with them when I take away their sins.” As far as the gospel is concerned, they are enemies on your account; but as far as election is concerned, they are loved on account of the patriarchs, for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable. (vv. 25b–29)

The times of the Gentiles will end with the return of Christ, and that was the subject to which Christ turned as he closed his Olivet Discourse.

CHRIST’S SECOND COMING (VV. 25–33)

Portents of His Return

Perhaps Jesus lifted his eyes from the temple and looked beyond as he continued speaking:

“There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. Men will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” (vv. 25–28)

Virtually everything Christ said here is from Old Testament material too vast to mine in one chapter or even in a whole book—passages like Joel 2:30, 31: “I will show wonders in the heavens and on the earth, blood and fire and billows of smoke. The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the LORD” (cf. Isaiah 13:10; 34:4; Ezekiel 32:7; Haggai 2:6, 21; and in the New Testament, 2 Peter 3:10–13; Revelation 8:7–13). The end will feature unnatural disasters. Cosmic portents—quakes in the heavens, terrestrial catastrophes, tidal disturbances, chaos—all these are part of his final appearing. This is apocalyptic language for violent change in the natural order and in human life. The result will be widespread despair and apprehension.

Then amidst this universal confusion, Jesus will come in shining clouds of glory. He is the awesome “son of man” of Daniel 7:13, 14 to whom the Ancient of Days has given ultimate authority—“He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all peoples, nations and men of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed” (Daniel 7:14). David Gooding writes:

As surely as men standing in Jerusalem once saw him slowly descending the Mount of Olives and then ascending the opposite hill into the city, so surely shall the world one day see the Son of man descending the heavens. Not then shall he come as the meek and lowly: he shall come with power and great glory. Not then shall he come riding on an ass: he shall come in a cloud, the emblematic carriage of Deity. Not then shall he have to borrow a donkey: then his advance preparations shall be the roaring of the sea and the shaking of the powers of the heavens.

Lo, He comes with clouds descending

Once for favored sinners slain;

Thousand thousand saints attending

Swell the triumph of His train:

Alleluia! Alleluia!

God appears on earth to reign.

—CHARLES WESLEY

This is our dream—and it will be our reality! Jesus advises, “When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” (v. 28).

When will this happen?

The Time of the Second Coming

Regarding when, Jesus gave a mini-parable:

“Look at the fig tree and all the trees. When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near. I tell you the truth, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” (vv. 29–33)

When the final cosmic portents happen, there will be no time. The generation of the end signs will see all this fulfilled.

Jesus closed his prophecy with the declaration, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away” (v. 33). Jesus placed his words on equal footing with the Old Testament Scriptures. Therefore we must understand that as surely as every word spoken by Jesus concerning the destruction of Jerusalem came true—that Jerusalem would be surrounded by armies—that they must flee the dreadful days—that they would otherwise be deported—that Jerusalem would be trampled by the Gentiles—that one stone would not be left on another—as surely as all of this took place, just as sure is his Second Coming! Every word will be fulfilled!

Advice Concerning Christ’s Return

What is Jesus’ advice to us in light of his Second Coming?

“Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with dissipation, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap. For it will come upon all those who live on the face of the whole earth. Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man.” (vv. 34–36)

This call to vigilance is universal. It is meant for us today. Jesus issued the command from the Mount of Olives, the official site of his return. Will his coming be today, or in the next decade? Possibly …

We must not be numbed by all the earthbound, secular voices that say life will go on and on. It will not! All of life is moving toward him. “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him” (Colossians 1:15, 16).

We are to keep looking up. “The grace of God … teaches us to say ‘No’ to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:11–13). “Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure” (1 John 3:2, 3).

Keep looking up!

The Plot to Kill Jesus

22 Now the Feast of Unleavened Bread drew near, which is called the Passover. 2 And the chief priests and the scribes were seeking how to put him to death, for they feared the people.

Judas to Betray Jesus

3 Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was of the number of the twelve. 4 He went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers how he might betray him to them. 5 And they were glad, and agreed to give him money. 6 So he consented and sought an opportunity to betray him to them in the absence of a crowd.

The Passover with the Disciples

7 Then came the day of Unleavened Bread, on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed. 8 So Jesus sent Peter and John, saying, “Go and prepare the Passover for us, that we may eat it.” 9 They said to him, “Where will you have us prepare it?” 10 He said to them, “Behold, when you have entered the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him into the house that he enters 11 and tell the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says to you, Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ 12 And he will show you a large upper room furnished; prepare it there.” 13 And they went and found it just as he had told them, and they prepared the Passover.

Institution of the Lord’s Supper

14 And when the hour came, he reclined at table, and the apostles with him. 15 And he said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. 16 For I tell you I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” 17 And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves. 18 For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” 19 And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 20 And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. 21 But behold, the hand of him who betrays me is with me on the table. 22 For the Son of Man goes as it has been determined, but woe to that man by whom he is betrayed!” 23 And they began to question one another, which of them it could be who was going to do this.

Who Is the Greatest?

24 A dispute also arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. 25 And he said to them, “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. 26 But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. 27 For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.

28 “You are those who have stayed with me in my trials, 29 and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, 30 that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

Jesus Foretells Peter’s Denial

31 “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, 32 but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” 33 Peter said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death.” 34 Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me.”

Scripture Must Be Fulfilled in Jesus

35 And he said to them, “When I sent you out with no moneybag or knapsack or sandals, did you lack anything?” They said, “Nothing.” 36 He said to them, “But now let the one who has a moneybag take it, and likewise a knapsack. And let the one who has no sword sell his cloak and buy one. 37 For I tell you that this Scripture must be fulfilled in me: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors.’ For what is written about me has its fulfillment.” 38 And they said, “Look, Lord, here are two swords.” And he said to them, “It is enough.”

Jesus Prays on the Mount of Olives

39 And he came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him. 40 And when he came to the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into temptation.” 41 And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, 42 saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” 43 And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. 44 And being in agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground. 45 And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, 46 and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”

Betrayal and Arrest of Jesus

47 While he was still speaking, there came a crowd, and the man called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He drew near to Jesus to kiss him, 48 but Jesus said to him, “Judas, would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?” 49 And when those who were around him saw what would follow, they said, “Lord, shall we strike with the sword?” 50 And one of them struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his right ear. 51 But Jesus said, “No more of this!” And he touched his ear and healed him. 52 Then Jesus said to the chief priests and officers of the temple and elders, who had come out against him, “Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs? 53 When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness.”

Peter Denies Jesus

54 Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house, and Peter was following at a distance. 55 And when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat down among them. 56 Then a servant girl, seeing him as he sat in the light and looking closely at him, said, “This man also was with him.” 57 But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him.” 58 And a little later someone else saw him and said, “You also are one of them.” But Peter said, “Man, I am not.” 59 And after an interval of about an hour still another insisted, saying, “Certainly this man also was with him, for he too is a Galilean.” 60 But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. 61 And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” 62 And he went out and wept bitterly.

Jesus Is Mocked

63 Now the men who were holding Jesus in custody were mocking him as they beat him. 64 They also blindfolded him and kept asking him, “Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?” 65 And they said many other things against him, blaspheming him.

Jesus Before the Council

66 When day came, the assembly of the elders of the people gathered together, both chief priests and scribes. And they led him away to their council, and they said, 67 “If you are the Christ, tell us.” But he said to them, “If I tell you, you will not believe, 68 and if I ask you, you will not answer. 69 But from now on the Son of Man shall be seated at the right hand of the power of God.” 70 So they all said, “Are you the Son of God, then?” And he said to them, “You say that I am.” 71 Then they said, “What further testimony do we need? We have heard it ourselves from his own lips.”

39

The Night Without a Morning

LUKE 22:1–6

In my dream I was carried away to a great and high mountain where I saw that great city: the goal of all our hopes and desires, the end of our salvation, the Holy City of God, the New Jerusalem. Around the city, as around the earthly Jerusalem, there ran a wall great and high. There were twelve gates, north, south, east, and west; and every gate was a pearl, and at every gate stood one of the Great Angels. On the gates were written the names of the Twelve Tribes of the Children of Israel, from Reuben to Benjamin. The wall of the city stood upon twelve massive foundation stones, and on each stone was the name of one of the Twelve Apostles of the Lamb; and as I walked around the city, thrilling with joy and rapture at the glory and splendor of it, I read the names written upon the twelve stones—Peter, James, John, and all the others. But one name was missing. I looked in vain for that name, either on the twelve gates or on the twelve foundation stones—and that name was Judas.

So dreamt the celebrated Presbyterian preacher Clarence Edward Macartney in his Great Nights of the Bible.

Luke now focuses on this missing name as a prelude to the Last Supper, from which Judas would step out into eternal darkness. We will look first at his tragic decision to betray Jesus as Luke recorded it, and then John’s record of his exit into the night.

JUDAS’ TRAGIC DECISION (VV. 1–6)

Murderous Resolve

The authorities had hardened in their deadly determination to eliminate Jesus when he cleansed the temple and began to teach in its porticoes. “Every day he was teaching at the temple. But the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the leaders among the people were trying to kill him. Yet they could not find any way to do it, because all the people hung on his words” (19:47, 48). Any chance of a lessening of their murderous resolve disappeared when Jesus told the Parable of the Vineyard Keepers in which he predicted they would kill him. At that point, Luke says, “The teachers of the law and the chief priests looked for a way to arrest him immediately, because they knew he had spoken this parable against them. But they were afraid of the people” (20:19). Their hearts were cold granite.

The Jews’ religious calendar added desperation to their deadly resolution: “Now the Feast of Unleavened Bread, called the Passover, was approaching, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were looking for some way to get rid of Jesus, for they were afraid of the people” (vv. 1, 2). The prospect of several hundred thousand pilgrims descending upon Jerusalem made it imperative that something be done lest Jesus influence them and garner an even bigger following. And the enemy of our souls had an idea he knew they would like.

“Then Satan entered Judas, called Iscariot, one of the Twelve” (v. 3). An apostle became one with their devilish hearts! Of course, Satan had actively opposed Jesus throughout his ministry (cf. 4:33–37, 41; 8:26–38; 9:37–43; 10:18, 19; 11:14–28). But he was also especially active at what he discerned to be opportune times, such as his temptation of Christ in the wilderness at the beginning of our Lord’s ministry (4:1–13). At that time, we read, “When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time” (v. 13). Now was the time for another major onslaught.

Luke’s statement that “Satan entered Judas” does not suggest demon possession as such but rather influence. The same idea was clearly stated by Peter to Ananias, the husband of Sapphira: “Ananias, how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit?” (Acts 5:3). Ananias was under the sway of Satan. The Apostle John also describes what happened to Judas in the Upper Room: “As soon as Judas took the bread, Satan entered into him” (John 13:27). Judas’ heart was under the devil’s influence. But on each occasion Satan could not have entered into Judas unless Judas opened the door.

Judas did this for money. When he had earlier objected to Mary’s anointing Jesus with the expensive perfume, “He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it” (John 12:6).

A Murderous Contract

“And Judas went to the chief priests and the officers of the temple guard and discussed with them how he might betray Jesus. They were delighted and agreed to give him money. He consented, and watched for an opportunity to hand Jesus over to them when no crowd was present” (vv. 4–6). The blood money he accepted was the delight of the damned, the fellowship of Hell and eternal darkness.

It would all be so easy. As an insider, Judas knew Jesus’ every move. He would choose a time when the crowds slept and Jesus was isolated. At such a time, Jesus would be as vulnerable as a fawn among a pack of wild dogs. The religious leaders and their new coconspirator excitedly made preparations for the kill.

JESUS REACHES OUT (JOHN 13:18–30)

We turn now to John’s account of the exchange between Jesus and Judas at the Last Supper. John’s introduction sets the stage:

It was just before the Passover Feast. Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love. The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. (John 13:1, 2)

Jesus knew what Judas was up to but, as with the other disciples, would show Judas “the full extent of his love” as he reached out to his sinking soul.

Jesus Initiates

As we come to the dialogue of sorts between Jesus and Judas, the evening is rather late. Remarkable teaching has taken place. Perhaps Jesus lowered his voice and spoke with careful deliberation when he said, “I am not referring to all of you; I know those I have chosen. But this is to fulfill the scripture: ‘He who shares my bread has lifted up his heel against me’ ” (v. 18).

He was quoting Psalm 41:9—“Even my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared my bread has lifted up his heel against me.” Tellingly, this is a reference to Ahithophel, King David’s friend who so grievously betrayed him. As the Jewish commentator A. Cohen explains, “If the Psalm mirrors an incident in David’s life, the faithless friend must have been Ahithophel.” The expression “has lifted up his heel against me” describes the lifting of a horse’s foot and delivering a deadly kick3—just as Judas was about to deliver. Jesus’ correlation between Judas and Ahithophel would show brilliantly in retrospect, because Ahithophel’s end was: “He put his house in order and then hanged himself” (2 Samuel 17:23). Jesus was saying, “My friends, there is an Ahithophel in our midst, and he is reclining at this table, sharing my bread.”

With the shocking truth out, Jesus continued, “ ‘I am telling you now before it happens, so that when it does happen you will believe that I am He. I tell you the truth, whoever accepts anyone I send accepts me; and whoever accepts me accepts the one who sent me.’ After he had said this, Jesus was troubled in spirit and testified, ‘I tell you the truth, one of you is going to betray me’ ” (vv. 19–21). The Master’s voice must have given way. He apparently choked up, because “troubled in spirit” is the same word used by Jesus when he said, “Now my heart is troubled” as he contemplated his mission and death (John 12:27). His anguish was visible.

All the disciples could see his emotion, but they did not guess it was over Judas. But Judas saw it all from a few feet away in the flickering candlelight. Perhaps his cold heart skipped a beat. But the murderous determination remained. Jesus was demonstrating a remarkable truth. On the eve of the cross, just a few hours before the nails would go into his body, Jesus’ heart was troubled, not for himself, but for another. And not just for anyone, but for the one who was going to deliver him to death!

Thou, Thou my Jesus, after me

Didst reach Thine arms out dying,

For my sake sufferedst nails and lance,

Mocked and marred countenance,

Sorrows passing number

Sweat and care and cumber,

Yea and death, and this for me,

And Thou couldest see me sinning.

—FRANCIS XAVIER, TRANS. GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS,

O DEUS EGO AMO TE

Judas Ignores

The Eleven were in corporate shock—“His disciples stared at one another, at a loss to know which of them he meant” (v. 22). Matthew’s Gospel records, “They were very sad and began to say to him one after another, ‘Surely not I, Lord?’ ” (26:22). Judas, as he reclined close by Jesus, played the game, coolly mouthing the same question—“Surely not I, Rabbi?”

No one had the slightest inkling that it was Judas. Again we see the Lord’s loving heart because in a tight group like the Twelve, if Jesus had cast the slightest suspicion Judas’ way, the other disciples would have been on him like a dog on a bone! In my family a raised eyebrow can mean ten pages single-spaced! A pause or a voice inflection are letters written large. But Jesus had revealed nothing of Judas’ character because he was after Judas’ soul. There was no hint of rejection, lest Judas turn away.

Then I, why should not I love Thee:

Jesus so much in love with me?

—FRANCIS XAVIER, TRANS. GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS,

O DEUS EGO AMO TE

Jesus Persists

The atmosphere of the Upper Room was charged with Jesus’ persistence.

When Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, he had lovingly taken each of Judas’ feet in his hands. And in the process of washing Peter’s feet, he had remarked to them all, “And you are clean, though not every one of you” (v. 10). It was a loving arrow aimed at Judas’ waning conscience. His words hurt Judas, but not enough.

The very seating arrangement bore the architecture of grace, because from left to right it was Judas, Jesus, and John, as evidenced by the private conversation going on between the three in verses 25–28. As they reclined, Jesus’ head was at Judas’ breast, and John’s head was at Jesus’ breast too. Jesus had given Judas the left-hand side, the place of honor. It appears that Jesus probably said something like “Judas, I want to have a talk with you. Sit at the place of honor to my left tonight.”

His disciples stared at one another, at a loss to know which of them he meant. One of them, the disciple whom Jesus loved, was reclining next to him. Simon Peter motioned to this disciple and said, “Ask him which one he means.” (vv. 22–24)

The intimate seating arrangement made this so easy. John had only to lean back a few inches and say, “Lord, who is it?” (v. 25). To which Jesus quietly responded, “ ‘It is the one to whom I will give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.’Then, dipping the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, son of Simon” (v. 26).

The offer of the dipped morsel was both a rich, symbolic custom and a powerful, ultimate appeal. In Palestinian culture the act of the host’s taking a morsel from the table, dipping it in the common dish, and offering it to another was a gesture of honor or friendship. A thousand years before, when Boaz invited his future wife Ruth to come dine with him, he said, “ ‘Come here, that you may eat of the bread and dip your piece of bread in the vinegar’… and he served her” (Ruth 2:14, NASB). Jesus was saying, as he extended the dipped bread, “Judas, here is my friendship. It’s not too late.” Judas took it but did not turn back to the Master. So the door slammed shut, and he locked it with his own hand.

JUDAS DEPARTS (VV. 27–30)

Incredibly, Judas walked!

As soon as Judas took the bread, Satan entered into him. “What you are about to do, do quickly,” Jesus told him, but no one at the meal understood why Jesus said this to him. Since Judas had charge of the money, some thought Jesus was telling him to buy what was needed for the Feast, or to give something to the poor. As soon as Judas had taken the bread, he went out. And it was night. (vv. 27–30)

For Judas, it was the night that would know no morning. How utterly alone he was. Judas skulked about and concealed himself as Jesus and his men crossed the Kidron and climbed toward Gethsemane. He had the information he needed. As he hurried through the dark streets to the chief priests and elders, his last glimpse of Jesus would be by torchlight as Jesus was taken away.

Matthew supplies further details of that night:

Early in the morning, all the chief priests and the elders of the people came to the decision to put Jesus to death. They bound him, led him away and handed him over to Pilate, the governor. When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty silver coins to the chief priests and the elders. “I have sinned,” he said, “for I have betrayed innocent blood.” “What is that to us?” they replied. “That’s your responsibility.” So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself. (Matthew 27:1–5)

Macartney again uses his imagination:

The night is passing, but the day has not yet come. Far to the east, over the mountains of Moab, there is just the faintest intimation of the coming day. The huge walls of Jerusalem and the towers and pinnacles of the Temple are emerging from the shadows of the night. In the half darkness and half light I can make out a solitary figure coming down the winding road from the wall of Jerusalem towards the gorge of the Kidron. On the bridge over the brook he pauses for a moment and, turning, looks back towards the Holy City. Then he goes forward for a few paces and, again turning, halts and looks up towards the massive walls of the city. Again he turns, and this time he does not stop.

Now I can see that in his hand he carries a rope. Up the slope of Olivet he comes and, entering in at the gate of Gethsemane, walks under the trees of the Garden. Seizing with his arms one of the low-branching limbs of a gnarled olive tree, he draws himself up into the tree. Perhaps he is the proprietor of this part of the Garden, and has come to gather the olives. But why with a rope? For a little he is lost to my view in the springtime foliage of the tree. Then … I see his body plummet down like a rock from the top of the tree.… And there it swings slowly to and fro.

JESUS LOVES (VV. 31–35)

Jesus Embraces Death

When he [Judas] was gone, Jesus said, “Now is the Son of Man glorified and God is glorified in him. If God is glorified in him, then God will glorify the Son in himself, and will glorify him at once. My children, I will be with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and just as I told the Jews, so I tell you now: Where I am going, you cannot come.” (vv. 31–33)

The paradox of divine governance leaps from the story. The religious establishment and Judas, empowered by Satan, were determined that Jesus should die. And Jesus, as an antidote to the world’s rebellion, came to earth and Jerusalem determined to die. It was only the loving determination of God that made possible that which was determined by man. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son …” (John 3:16). Here is gospel love for those who are:

• Ungodly: “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly” (Romans 5:6).

• Sinners: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

• Enemies: “For if, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!” (Romans 5:10).

In Jesus’ reaching out to Judas we see him loving an enemy, a sinner, and an ungodly man—and he does the same for each one of us. Through his atoning death on the cross Jesus did it all. There is hope for us amidst our ungodly ways. There is deliverance for those who are caught in sin. There is reconciliation for the most hardened enemies of God.

Jesus Demands Love

Jesus then issued a revolutionary call: “A new commandment I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (v. 34). The beautiful and exalted old commandment of the Law called us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves (cf. Leviticus 19:18; Matthew 22:34–40; Mark 12:28–31). The new commandment calls us not only to love others with a self-loving love, but with the sacrificial love modeled by Jesus in his reaching out to Judas and on the cross when he reached out to us. We must give ourselves in loving others when they persist in their ungodliness and sin. We must love our enemies. We must give ourselves for them.

CLOSING REFLECTIONS

We are to love as Jesus loves.

In the Incarnation he stripped himself of his glory so he could wash us clean. He is our servant-Savior.

Though we have raised our heel against him, though we have been Ahithophels, he offers his eternal friendship. He stretches his arms out on the cross to embrace us.

O the deep, deep love of Jesus,

Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!

Rolling as a mighty ocean,

In its fulness over me.…

—S. TREVOR FRANCIS

40

The Last Supper, I

LUKE 22:7–20

The Passover in Jesus’ day was a festival of immense scale and enthusiastic devotion. Huge crowds descended on Jerusalem. Josephus’ estimate of about three million is undoubtedly exaggerated. More probably the number of pilgrims was about 200,000—a vast multitude given the size of the ancient city. Accommodations for sleeping and feasting were scarce. The only allowable rent for those who opened their homes were the hides of the Passover sheep slaughtered by their guests (T.B. Yoma 12a).

Long in advance of Passover, Jerusalem began to pulse with added commercial activity. Many of the pilgrims were merchants who arrived early to sell their wares (cf. Matthew 21:12ff.; John 2:13–16). Their cries filled the air as they hawked everything from jewelry to spices. Beggars clogged the principal gates. The major purchase of the week was a sacrificial sheep or goat, preferably a lamb. It was required that the people band together in groups of ten or more to eat the entire lamb at one sitting (T.B. Pesahim 64b).

The day of sacrifice was given entirely to festive preparations. A massive assembly of priests (twenty-four divisions instead of the customary single division) arrived at the temple early. Their first duty was to burn all the leaven that had been ceremonially collected by candlelight and spoon the preceding night (M. Pesahim 1–3). By noon all work ceased.

At midafternoon, 3:00 P.M., the ritual slaughtering began (M. Pesahim 5.1). This was completed in three huge shifts. When the first group entered in and the temple court was filled, the gates of the court were closed. A priest’s shofar played a sustained blast, and the sacrifices began (M. Pesahim 5.5). The pilgrims approached two long rows of priests holding basins of silver and gold. Each Israelite slaughtered his own offering, and the priest caught the blood, which was then tossed at the base of the altar (M. Pesahim 5.5, 6). As the offerer left the temple, the slain lamb and its skin was draped over his shoulder (T.B. Pesahim 65b).

That evening the Passover was observed in a home or room reserved for the occasion. The lamb was roasted on a pomegranate spit (M. Pesahim 7.1). Inside, the company dressed in festive white and reclined at tables with the leader at the head.

In Jesus’ time the celebration had added elements beyond the Old Testament’s prescriptions. There was a seder, a set order of service (M. Pesahim 10.1-9). The celebrants reclined while they ate because they were no longer slaves (cf. Exodus 12:11). It was the host’s duty to interpret each of the foods on the table as it related to their deliverance from Egypt. The bitter herbs recalled their bitter slavery. The stewed fruit, by its color and consistency, recalled the misery of making bricks for Pharaoh. The roasted lamb brought to their remembrance the lamb’s blood applied to the doorposts, their eating of the lamb within their house, and the death angel’s passing over them as it destroyed the firstborn of Egypt.

The celebration concluded late, but many people returned to the streets to continue celebrating. Others returned to the temple mount to await the reopening of the temple gates at midnight, so they could spend the rest of the evening in worship and prayer (cf. Josephus, Antiquities 18.2.2).

The Last Supper built upon the rich, full religious and social context of this great day in Israel.

THE PASSOVER (VV. 7–13)

“Then came the day of Unleavened Bread on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed” (v. 7). Luke’s mention of “the day of Unleavened bread” in conjunction with “Passover” fixes the date. The lamb was slain on Nisan 14 between 3:00 and 5:00 P.M. At 6:00 P.M., when the new day began for the Jews, Nisan 15, the Passover meal was eaten, thus also beginning the week of the Feast of Unleavened Bread (Nisan 15–21).

Luke is also precise about Jesus’ careful preparations:

Jesus sent Peter and John, saying, “Go and make preparations for us to eat the Passover.” “Where do you want us to prepare for it?” they asked. He replied, “As you enter the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him to the house that he enters, and say to the owner of the house, ‘The Teacher asks: Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ He will show you a large upper room, all furnished. Make preparations there.” (vv. 8–12)

The counterintelligence-like secrecy was due to the fact that Jesus was quite aware of Judas’ intention to betray him at a time when he and the disciples were isolated. If Jesus had let it be known where the rendezvous and meal would occur, Judas would have informed on them, the meal would never have taken place, and the institution of the Lord’s Supper would never have been given to the Church. So Jesus himself had prearranged the place and the secret signs by which Peter and John would find it. Women normally carried water jars, while men carried water in skins. Thus their guide was easily recognizable.

Everything went like clockwork: “They left and found things just as Jesus had told them. So they prepared the Passover” (v. 13). The householder led them to a large room above his home “all furnished”—literally, “spread,” indicating that the couches were arranged and covered for the meal. Jesus’ two most trusted disciples hurried off to purchase a lamb and all the trimmings for the feast, then stand in one of the three great sacrificial shifts at the temple, bear the lamb back to the house, present the skin to the owner, put the lamb roast on, with the falling dark light the candles, and wait for Jesus and the others.

From the onset of this near-final event we see that Jesus was in control of his destiny. He was not caught like a rag doll on the relentless gears of history. He was not done in by a satanic plot. Jesus would accomplish everything he set out to do—and on his own schedule.

THE LAST SUPPER (VV. 14–20)

As Peter and John sat waiting in the candlelight, extra-hungry because of the aroma of the roasting lamb, the party arrived resplendent in white and took their places on the triclinium, the three couches arranged in a horseshoe around the table.

A Heart Revelation

The time had come. This was the hour—a critical moment in salvation history when Jesus would reveal his heart: “When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, ‘I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God’ ” (vv. 14–16).

Jesus had an intense longing for this special time alone with his disciples at the eating of his last Passover meal. This is also why he had taken such elaborate preparations to insure that the meal be undisturbed. He was eager to teach them from that meal the most wonderful truths ever revealed. That meal would be transformed forever. Its celebration would become an acted parable of his life and death. Jesus would recoil at the reality of the cross but not from this!

His heart also swelled at the thought of the next time he would eat with his own beyond history. Jesus’ heart traveled beyond the sorrow and death to reunion with them in lavish festal joy. These anticipated joys sustained him in this crucial hour. As the writer to the Hebrews put it, “who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame” (Hebrews 12:2). And the center of that joy is that his redeemed will sit with him at table in the kingdom.

Jesus also longed for the messianic banquet so magnificently described in the book of Revelation:

Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:

“Hallelujah!

For our Lord God Almighty reigns.

Let us rejoice and be glad

and give him glory!

For the wedding of the Lamb has come,

and his bride has made herself ready.

Fine linen, bright and clean,

was given her to wear.”

(Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of the saints.) Then the angel said to me, “Write: ‘Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!’ ” And he added, “These are the true words of God.” (Revelation 19:6–9; cf. Luke 13:29; 14:15)

Whenever we celebrate the Lord’s Table, we should eat with an eye to the ultimate Communion. This is why Paul added, “For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26). The eagerness of our Savior’s heart for this meal ought to set our hearts to racing. This is the heart of God!

A Cup of Communion

Unlike the other Gospels, which describe only one cup at the Last Supper, Luke mentions an additional cup before the traditional words of institution of the Lord’s Supper. Most believe this was the first cup of the meal, which the Passover seder describes as taking place immediately after the opening prayers. But unlike the seder, in which the participants were directed to drink from their own cups, Jesus distributed the single cup among the disciples, emphasizing the communal aspect of the meal. They were at a table of fellowship with one another—in communion. Thus from the onset Jesus emphasized the radical, mutual participatory nature of the Supper he was about to institute.

And again Jesus strongly emphasized the future communal hope of the messianic table: “For I tell you I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes” (v. 18). A deep, eternal oneness awaits those who will dine at the ultimate table with Christ—a oneness that comes by virtue of our being in him.

THE LORD’S SUPPER (VV. 19, 20)

Now Jesus was ready to speak the famous words of institution. The words changed the meaning of two elements of the meal—the bread and the cup—charging them with surpassing significance.

The Bread

“And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me’ ” (v. 19). The unleavened bread was equated in the seder with bread of affliction because it reminded them of their persecution in Egypt as mentioned in Deuteronomy 16:3: “Do not eat it with bread made with yeast, but for seven days eat unleavened bread, the bread of affliction, because you left Egypt in haste—so that all the days of your life you may remember the time of your departure from Egypt.” This unleavened bread was now given greater significance—it represented Jesus’ body and the affliction he would endure on the cross.

Jesus’ statement was freighted with immense meaning.

“This is my body” meant that the unleavened bread represents his body. Jesus was not saying that the bread was literally his body, thereby teaching the Roman Catholic Church’s doctrine of transubstantiation. Some medieval theologians pounded their fists as they quoted the Latin Vulgate (hoc est corpus meum—“This is my body”) and argued that this is the plain sense of Christ’s words.

But the Jews, with their prophetic legacy of parabolic acts and languages and their customary symbolic expression, understood that Christ was speaking figuratively—just as when he said “the field is the world” or “I am the door.” To his hearers who saw him sitting there in his body holding a piece of bread, “This is my body” could not mean anything other than “This is a symbol of my body.” They knew he was speaking figuratively.

“Given for you” speaks of the vicarious gift of himself on the cross for our sins—“Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3).

“Do this in remembrance of me” calls for studied remembrance through the memorial (the bread) of what Christ has done for us.

Tragically (though we may think it is impossible), we are in constant danger of forgetting. The memorial of the bread is meant to graciously assault our fickle memories.

The Cup

Substantial time must have elapsed between the acts of institution because Luke says, “In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you’ ” (v. 20). By calling the cup “the new covenant in my blood,” Jesus was intentionally contrasting his atoning work (the shedding of his blood) with the Old Covenant’s ocean of blood.

Exodus 24 gives the full account of the Old Covenant’s inauguration. The Ten Commandments had already been delivered (Exodus 19, 20), and then the Book of the Covenant was read (Exodus 20:18–23:33), to which the people responded in one voice, “ ‘Everything the LORD has said we will do.’ Moses then wrote down everything the LORD had said” (24:3, 4). The next few verses complete the picture:

Then he sent young Israelite men, and they offered burnt offerings and sacrificed young bulls as fellowship offerings to the LORD. Moses took half of the blood and put it in bowls, and the other half he sprinkled on the altar. Then he took the Book of the Covenant and read it to the people. They responded, “We will do everything the LORD has said; we will obey.” Moses then took the blood, sprinkled it on the people and said, “This is the blood of the covenant that the LORD has made with you in accordance with all these words.” (vv. 5–8)

From Exodus we understand that everything of significance was doused with blood—half on the altar and the other half on the people and the scroll. The altar, people, and book dripped with blood. It was not a pretty sight, except in its supreme symbolism. The Old Covenant was launched on a sea of blood for two reasons. First, to emphasize the seriousness of sin. Second, to teach that the payment for sin is death. The weakness of the Old Covenant was that it depended on man’s keeping his pledge to obey the Law. The people promised, “Everything the LORD has said we will do,” and again, “We will do everything the LORD has said; we will obey.” But they couldn’t—not even for a day!

So we come to the glory of the New Covenant in Christ’s blood—namely, the keeping of this promise, this covenant, is totally dependent on Christ. He does it all! Our salvation rests on the infinite ocean of his divine blood—“which is poured out for you.”

CLOSING REFLECTIONS

Historically, the idea of the New Covenant was not new, but it was made possible by the body and blood of Christ. The cup that Jesus offered brimmed with Jeremiah 31:31–34, which prophesied the New Covenant:

“The time is coming,” declares the Lord,

“when I will make a new covenant

with the house of Israel

and with the house of Judah.

It will not be like the [old] covenant

I made with their forefathers

when I took them by the hand

to lead them out of Egypt,

because they broke my covenant,

though I was a husband to them,” declares the LORD.

“This is the [new] covenant I will make with the house of Israel

after that time,” declares the LORD.

“I will put my law in their minds

and write it on their hearts.

I will be their God,

and they will be my people.

No longer will a man teach his neighbor,

or a man his brother, saying, ‘Know the LORD,’

because they will all know me,

from the least of them to the greatest,” declares the LORD.

“For I will forgive their wickedness

and will remember their sins no more.”

This is the superior work of Jesus—superior, according to Jeremiah, in four ways.

A Superior Inwardness

“ ‘This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after that time,’ declares the LORD. ‘I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts’ ” (v. 33a). The problem with the Old Covenant was, it was patently external. Its laws were written on stone (Exodus 32:15, 16). They provided no internal power to live them out. To be sure, there was great benefit in memorizing God’s Word. But the writing on the heart was beyond the power of unaided man. Something far more radical was needed—a spiritual heart operation.

On one occasion Dr. Christian Barnard, the first surgeon ever to do a heart transplant, impulsively asked his patient, Dr. Philip Blaiberg, “Would you like to see your old heart?” On a subsequent evening, “the men stood in a room of the Groote Schuur Hospital, in Johannesburg, South Africa. Dr. Barnard went up to a cupboard, took down a glass container and handed it to Dr. Blaiberg. Inside that container was Blaiberg’s old heart. For a moment he stood there stunned into silence—the first man in history ever to hold his own heart in his hands. Finally he spoke and for ten minutes plied Dr. Barnard with technical questions. Then he turned to take a final look at the contents of the glass container, and said, ‘So this is my old heart that caused me so much trouble.’ He handed it back, turned away and left it forever.”

This, in essence, is what Christ does for us. He gives us a new heart. God has written his laws within us. He has made his people partakers of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). True, we still battle with our fleshly nature, but through baptism into Christ’s Body, God’s laws are no longer external and foreign but internal (cf. John 14:15–17; 16:12, 13; 1 Corinthians 12:13).

A Superior Relationship

“I will be their God, and they will be my people” (v. 33b). The Old Testament echoes this repeatedly, though it was only fulfilled in some of the hearers. But this is perfectly fulfilled in all who partake of the New Covenant, through which believers actually become God’s possession and possess God. “I will be their God” means he gives himself to us. And “they will be my people” means he takes us to himself! When this happens, everything our complex nature can require is found in him.

Superior Knowledge

“No longer will a man teach his neighbor, or a man his brother, saying, ‘Know the LORD,’ because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest” (v. 34a). The Old Covenant was corporately entered into by a nation, including many who did not know God personally. But those who experience the New Covenant by faith in Jesus’ blood come one by one as they are born into a relationship with God. Jesus defined eternal life by saying, “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (John 17:3). Those who are partakers of the New Covenant all know God, “from the least of them to the greatest.” No one needs to say, “Know the Lord” to such persons, though at the same time this is a command and an invitation to a lost world.

Superior Forgiveness

“For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more” (v. 34b). This is precisely what the Old Covenant could not do. Under the Old Covenant, sins were never completely forgiven because they were never truly forgotten. They were covered, awaiting and pointing to the true forgiveness through Christ’s death. Some of us have phenomenal memories, but God never forgets anything. In fact, he cannot forget unless he wills to do so. And when sins are not remembered, “it is because His grace has determined to forgive them—not in spite of his holiness, but in harmony with it” (F. F. Bruce). The New Covenant brings total forgiveness!

As the disciples reclined on the Passover while in the Upper Room, and the candles flickered lower and lower, they saw and heard the eager Savior of the world unlock the mystery of salvation, saying, “This is my body given for you,” and “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. It is my life for yours.”

Here is a salvation that is superior—and eternal.

41

The Last Supper, II

LUKE 22:21–38

At the conclusion of the Last Supper when, in the candlelit room amidst his white-clad disciples, Jesus took the cup of wine in hand and said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you,” it was one of the supreme moments of salvation history. In that single sentence, Jesus declared that his soon-to-be shed blood would supersede the blood sacrifices of the Old Covenant.

Indeed, Jesus thus declared the all-surpassing superiority of the New Covenant over the Old. The blood of the Old-Covenant sacrifices could not atone for sin. Its animal sacrifices covered sin but could not remove it. As the writer of Hebrews so explicitly stated, “It is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (10:4), and “Day after day every priest stands and performs his religious duties; again and again he offers the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins” (10:11). Precisely because no dumb animal was competent to serve as a substitute for a human sinner, there was an unending repetition of sacrifices. And those repetitions bore constant testimony to their impotency.

But the blood of the New Covenant, Jesus’ blood, perfectly atoned for all the sins of those who would come to him and thus made possible the reality of the New Covenant promised by Jeremiah:

“This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel

after that time,” declares the LORD.

“I will put my law in their minds

and write it on their hearts.

I will be their God,

and they will be my people.

No longer will a man teach his neighbor,

or a man his brother, saying, ‘Know the LORD,’

because they will all know me,

from the least of them to the greatest,” declares the LORD.

“For I will forgive their wickedness

and will remember their sins no more.” (31:33, 34)

The cup Jesus held brimmed with the joyous wine of Jeremiah’s New-Covenant prophecy—a new heart, a new relationship, authentic forgiveness.

How much of this penetrated the disciples’ understanding at that moment is impossible to determine. But it would become the center of their faith and hope!

DIVINE DISAPPOINTMENT (VV. 31–38)

We do know that the immediate conversation and conduct in the Upper Room revealed a pathetically shallow understanding and appropriation of Jesus’ astounding revelation.

Betrayal

The scene was heart-breaking because without a pause Jesus, cup evidently still in hand, said, “ ‘But the hand of him who is going to betray me is with mine on the table. The Son of Man will go as it has been decreed, but woe to that man who betrays him.’They began to question among themselves which of them it might be who would do this” (vv. 21–23).

If Luke is writing in chronological order, then Judas had just participated in his first (and last!) Communion. Jesus was not surprised. He knew of Judas’ deadly bargain, and he knew that the Father had “decreed” the way he would be delivered over to death. Nevertheless, the numbing reality that a man with whom he had shared his life day and night, who had seen his manner of life, who had heard him bare his soul, had become his enemy—this sickening reality bore down on Jesus. His “woe” for Judas was an alas over what awaited his betrayer. Amidst the ensuing hubbub of questioning—“Surely it isn’t me?”—there was the Savior’s deep sadness.

Dissension

The holy solemnity of the institution of the Lord’s Supper had dissipated in a moment—and with it the effect of his words about his body and blood—his life. Then the disciples began to argue about (of all things!) who was the greatest (v. 24). Amazing! They had been his constant companions for three years. They had seen him live a life of service. This self-promoting conversation was an outrageous slap in the Savior’s face.

Jesus responded with sad irony: “The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors” (v. 25). The mentality of pagan lords was to domineer and practice overweening selfishness, all the while giving themselves pleasant titles like “Benefactor” or “Your Grace” or “Your Royal Munificence.”

“But,” says Jesus, “you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves. For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves” (vv. 26, 27). The phrase “one who serves” (used three times here) signifies the service of a table waiter, those who were at that moment serving them, those who lived as Jesus had.

Actually, Jesus was far gentler than you and I would have been with such boneheads, because he ended the discussion by reminding them of the authority that awaited them in the kingdom: “You are those who have stood by me in my trials. And I confer on you a kingdom, just as my Father conferred one on me, so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel” (vv. 28–30). The disciples’ future kingdom authority would not be like the delusive authority of earthly kings who practice dominance and demand lordship. Jesus’ followers’ rule would be like his rule—“as one who serves.”

What dolts these disciples were in the Upper Room. Jesus was so close to the cross, and yet his most intimate followers were so far from him in spirit. How disheartening this was for Jesus.

Failure

The Lord may have addressed Peter specifically because his voice overpowered the others in the quarrel:

“Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” But he replied, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death.” Jesus answered, “I tell you, Peter, before the rooster crows today, you will deny three times that you know me.” (vv. 31–34)

This is a familiar story that we will take up in detail when we come to verses 54–62. But here we must notice that in the crumbling atmosphere of the Upper Room, one of Jesus’ most trusted disciples, one of the inner circle, his most sanguine, enthusiastic supporter, vowed, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death.” And yet this foremost disciple would succumb to cowardly denial and infamous failure.

The Upper Room, so festive with table and candles a few minutes before, was now dark and somber. The betrayer had gone out into the night, awaiting the right moment to trap Jesus. Shameful dissension had broken out over who was the greatest. And denial and failure was about to come from the most unlikely of apostles. What more could happen?

Dullness

Done with Peter, Jesus turned again to the whole group:

“When I sent you without purse, bag or sandals, did you lack anything?” “Nothing,” they answered. He said to them, “But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one. It is written: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors’; and I tell you that this must be fulfilled in me. Yes, what is written about me is reaching its fulfillment.” (vv. 35–37)

Luke records two earlier occasions (9:3; 10:4) when Jesus sent his disciples out to preach the gospel of the kingdom having no provisions. And as Jesus suggested, they met with such receptiveness that their hearers provided everything they needed. But now, with his arrest, trial, and death imminent, Jesus knew that their ministry experience would change. Jesus quoted Isaiah 53:12 about himself—“And he was numbered with the transgressors”—because that is how he would be treated. In fact, he would be crucified between two thieves, two outlaws (cf. 23:32, 33). The reality for his disciples was that because they followed him, they too would be regarded as transgressors or outlaws.

They were to ponder his advice, “But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one” (v. 36). The apostles, however, with a dullness we have seen before, focused on the specific mention of a sword without attempting to grapple with what that suggested—namely, the hostility that awaited them, and the necessity of making adequate provision. The proof that Jesus was not suggesting his disciples arm themselves came later that evening when one of the disciples drew a sword in Gethsemane and cut off the ear of the servant of the high priest, to which Jesus responded, “No more of this!” and healed the man (cf. vv. 50, 51).

In the Upper Room the disciples responded literally to his question saying, “See, Lord, here are two swords” (with which they presumably thought they could hold off the Romans), and Jesus had had it. He replied, “That is enough,” meaning as commentators variously explain: “That’s enough of that,” “Enough of that,”5 “Enough of this kind of talk!” As Marvin Pate explains, “… so complete was the disciples’ misunderstanding of His saying about the need to buy a sword, that he refused to explain it any more. We might colloquially render Jesus’ words thus, ‘I give up!’ ”

Jesus had come to the Upper Room with such great anticipation. His opening words to his disciples were, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (v. 15). And during the Passover feast he fulfilled his desire by reinterpreting the bread and the cup to show that he is the ultimate Passover Lamb and that his blood established the New Covenant long ago prophesied by Jeremiah.

All this majestic eagerness from Jesus even though he knew he was going to die! But then came Judas’ betrayal, and the disciples’ dissension, and Peter’s denial, and their dullness. So Jesus finally exclaimed “Enough of this!”—the utterance of a broken heart.

If this was our first reading of the story, we might well think, “Is there any hope for such dunderheads?” We know there was and is because we are blockheads too—every bit as self-centered and presumptuous and dense and utterly sinful. What hope do we have for anything better?

DIVINE ENABLEMENT (VV. 37, 38)

The answer is magnificently tucked into Jesus’ brief reference in verse 37 to Isaiah 53:12: “ ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors.’ ” Isaiah 53 is the messianic Servant Song that describes in detail the Passion, death, and atonement of the Lamb of God. It is all about Christ. The further significance of this quotation is that this is the only verse from Isaiah 53 that Jesus expressly quoted. In addition, verse 12 is the final and the summary verse of Isaiah 53, providing us with a compact description of what Jesus did for his own.

The phrase “and was numbered with the transgressors” in Isaiah 53 is followed by two other phrases—“For he bore the sin of many” and “and made intercession for the transgressors.” Together these three phrases give us the basis of all hope.

Identification

The phrase “And was numbered with the transgressors” was dramatically fulfilled when Jesus was hung on a cross between two outlaws. The Septuagint of Isaiah 53:12 has the sense, “and he was classed among the outlaws.” Here the joyful reality is that we too are transgressors/outlaws —and that on the cross he fully identified with us. On the cross the sinless Son of God became a transgressor, though he himself had broken no law. Consequently, we transgressors can find saving identification in him. He “was numbered with the transgressors”—praise his name forevermore!

Atonement

He not only identified with us in our sin, but he atoned for our sin, as the second phrase says—“For he bore the sin of many.” Earlier in Isaiah 53 (vv. 4–6) we read:

Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Whereas it was “impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Hebrews 10:4), Peter tells us, in referring to Isaiah 53, “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24).

Full atonement can it be?

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

—“MAN OF SORROWS, WHAT A NAME”

(PHILIP P. BLISS)

Intercession

The final clause, “and made intercession for the transgressors,” is the final element in the triad of hope. Jesus makes full identification with us transgressors, and then full atonement, and then caps it with full intercession for us outlaws. This is why Peter ultimately made a comeback. Satan had asked to sift Peter as wheat, hoping to dispose of the wheat and harvest the chaff. But Christ prayed for Peter, and through Peter’s failure the chaff blew away and the wheat remained. Peter’s vanity was sifted out, his misplaced self-confidence was sifted away, his presumption was sifted, his impulsive mouth was winnowed—and he became a great strength to his brothers and sisters in the early church.

Jesus’ intercession is at the root of the New Covenant’s superior power. The Old Covenant was administered by mortal priests who were themselves sinners. But Jesus is an eternal priest in the order of Melchizedek according to the eternal oath of God.

The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind: “You are a priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek.” (Psalm 110:4)

This has untold implications for every believer. The writer of Hebrews gives it unforgettable expression: “but because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them” (Hebrews 7:24, 25). No matter what our sinful history might be, Christ can save us “completely” and eternally. This is the perpetual experience of all believers in every situation.

The reason he saves completely is “because he always lives to intercede.” Though we are finite, he is infinite. Though we are temporal, he is eternal. He prays with the ease of omniscience and omnipotence perfected through his own human suffering. He is praying for us right now!

CLOSING REFLECTIONS

The Upper Room discourse is beautiful and profound.

When Jesus held up the cup saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood,” he was declaring that he was and is the ground and originator of those amazing promises made in Jeremiah 31:33, 34. But Jesus is more than the originator of the New Covenant. He is also its High Priest, as the writer of Hebrews made so clear when he quoted Jeremiah’s New-Covenant promise in 8:8–12 and then concluded in 9:15a, “For this reason Christ is the mediator of a new covenant, that those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance.”

This was and is the hope of those dull, self-centered, presumptuous, weak disciples in the Upper Room, and it is our hope as well. Jesus does it all. Jesus Christ the Lord is the originator and mediator of the New Covenant. His promise and his priesthood do it all. There is hope for everyone!

42

Divine Dread

LUKE 22:39–46

The Last Supper closed as a vast disappointment to Jesus. The Messiah had come so eagerly to the Upper Room and had taken the Passover bread and cup and instituted the Last Supper—only to see the evening disintegrate. Judas left to betray him, the disciples fell to infighting, Jesus prophesied failure for Peter and the rest, and his final words were misunderstood due to the disciples’ abysmal spiritual dullness. In dismay, Jesus despaired: “That is enough” (v. 38).

Jesus’ disappointment with the disciples carried over to Gethsemane because the succeeding passage begins with his giving them explicit instructions to pray (v. 40) and ends with him finding the Eleven asleep and again charging them to “Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation” (v. 46). The disciples’ failures frame a portrait of Jesus’ Garden prayer. Luke’s picture of the event is briefer than the more detailed accounts of Gethsemane in Mark and Matthew. Those Gospels describe Jesus returning three times to find them sleeping and record his exasperated words to Peter. But Luke economizes the scene.

The reason for this stark abridgment is to intensify the focus on Jesus’ relationship to his Father in prayer. Here we are taken into Jesus’ heart as never before. In Gethsemane we see a Jesus who has never before appeared in any of the Gospels. This is the Sanctus Sanctorum of Jesus’ heart. It demands of us a profound reverence, almost a reticence, lest we get it wrong.

Up to now, Jesus has been absolutely fearless. We see this in the temptation in the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry. During those forty days face to face with Satan, Jesus remained totally unintimidated and immovable (4:1–13). Then, at the opening of his public ministry when his hometown people attempted to kill him, he eluded them with fearless aplomb (4:29, 30). Shortly after that, Jesus silenced a screaming demoniac with an unruffled “Be quiet!” (4:33–35). His preaching was fearless, as seen in the six scorching woes he delivered to the scribes and Pharisees (11:37–54). And toward the end, as he taught in the temple, his repeated conflicts with the authorities and his repeated slam dunks were all done with unintimidated composure.

Jesus was always in control and in full power, whether quieting a demon or calming a storm (8:22–25) or feeding a multitude (9:10–17). He fearlessly approached his own death. For example, after the Transfiguration he said to his disciples, “Listen carefully to what I am about to tell you: The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men” (9:44). A short time later, “As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem” (9:51). And just before ascending the hill to the Holy City, he said, “We are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written by the prophets about the Son of Man will be fulfilled. He will be handed over to the Gentiles. They will mock him, insult him, spit on him, flog him and kill him. On the third day he will rise again” (18:31–33). Finally, in the Upper Room, he was fearless and eager to eat the Passover with his own—though he knew he was the Passover lamb who would be devoured (22:14–16). Throughout the entire range of his tumultuous life Jesus knew no fear.

JESUS’ AGONY (VV. 43, 44 AND MARK 14:33, 34)

However, in the Garden there was an abrupt change, for Jesus was overcome with a fearful dread of death. Mark’s parallel report says, “he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,’ he said to them” (Mark 14:33, 34).

His expression “deeply distressed” bears the element of astonishment. The King James Version carries this idea in its rendering, “sore amazed.” Jesus’ horrified astonishment at his imminent death evoked his pathetic self-revelation, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” It is hard for us to fathom this, but his fear of death could well have killed him!

Luke adds, “An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground” (vv. 43, 44). As Jesus poured out his heart, an angel strengthened him. And he was so in “anguish” (literally, “agony”) that his sweat fell like drops of blood from a running wound and splashed on the ground. Jesus’ body and soul were racked with fearful anguish at his impending death. Incredible fear!

Why this surprising fear? Others have faced death quite calmly. Socrates awaited death with indifference, if not anticipation. Consider the death of Joachim Murat, marshal of France and king of Naples under Napoleon who was sentenced and executed by his captors. As Gay Talese recounts it:

On the day of his death he had a shock of his hair cut off and asked one of the officers to enclose it with a letter he had written to his wife, Napoleon’s sister, and his children, who were then all living in Trieste. Then Murat took off his watch and gave it to the officer as a gift. But before he parted with the watch he removed from its lid a tiny carnelian on which was carved a portrait of his wife. Murat held this carnelian tightly in the palm of his hand as he followed the soldiers out to the courtyard, where they were preparing to kill him. The sergeant of the firing squad offered Murat a chair, but Murat said he wanted to die standing up. The sergeant offered to cover up his eyes with a cloth, but Murat said he wanted to die with his eyes open. “I do have one request,” Murat then said. “I have commanded in many battles, and now I would like to give the word of command for the last time.” The sergeant granted his wish. Murat then stood against the wall of the castle and called out in a loud voice: “Soldiers, form line.” Six soldiers drew themselves up to within about ten feet of him. “Prepare arms—present.” The soldiers pointed their muskets at him. “Aim at the heart, save the face,” Murat said, with a little smile.

And then, after he had held up his hand to look for the final time at the carnelian showing the portrait of his wife, he issued his final command—“Fire!”

Many men and women alike have died brave, fearless deaths. So why such fear from Jesus? The learned pagan Celsus used this question as an argument against Christianity—how can one who is divine “mourn and lament and pray to escape the fear of death …?” (Contra Celsum 2:24).

The answer is: 1) Jesus knew that death is the “wages of sin” (Romans 6:23)—and that he would pay the total wages in full. 2) He also knew that death is a result of the judgment of God (cf. Romans 5:12)—and that he would bear that judgment. 3) He knew that he would become sin (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:21). 4) He knew that death would bring on him the wrath of God (cf. 1 John 2:2)—and that he would propitiate it to the full. That is why Jesus was filled with such unremitting dread. This is why he was so fearful. This is why he could well have died before the cross.

JESUS’ PRAYER (VV. 41, 42)

That fear was also the reason for his prayer, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (v. 42).

“Father”

Jesus began with the expression “Father,” which calls to mind his relationship with the One to whom he prayed, and also the character of that One. Though Jesus is God and is coeternal and coequal with God, he exists in relation to the Father as Son. They have always existed in eternal, perpetual, unbroken relationship (cf. John 1:1–3).

Jesus’ invocation “Father” reminds us that God loves to give to his Son. The phrase (meant for all of God’s children) “how much more will your Father in heaven give …” (Luke 11:13) exists for Christ in the “how much more” of eternal Sonship! The Father loves to give to his Son, just as earthly fathers delight to give to theirs. Jesus asked his Father who had never refused him. At the same time, his using the word “Father” invoked protection. As Philip Jensen has said, “Basically, prayer is offered to the Father, through the Spirit, by the Son—because it is the role of the Father to protect.” Thus this request went directly to the Father’s heart. He would do anything to protect his Son. Jesus’ use of “Father” also suggests submission. As he himself declared, “I always do what pleases him” (John 8:29).

We must remind ourselves that this is a real prayer by a real man (notwithstanding his divinity). Jesus really prayed this way. He submissively appealed to his Father, who always gave him everything and loved to protect him here on earth. Jesus’ prayer went like a dagger to the heart of the Father.

“If”

Jesus’ words “if you are willing” addressed the disposition of his loving Father. Jesus was not praying to an impotent Father but the omnipotent Father, for whom all things are possible. Indeed, Jesus had declared regarding the rich ruler, “What is impossible with men is possible with God” (Luke 18:27). God can do anything! In fact, Isaiah records that on one occasion God had taken the cup of wrath that Judah had drunk and put it into the hands of their godless tormentors (cf. Isaiah 51:17–23, esp. 23). Perhaps God would do a similar thing for his Son! Perhaps there could be a later appointed “hour” (cf. Mark 14:35). Perhaps there could be some other “cup”—some other way.

Jesus’ Gethsemane prayer testifies to the authenticity of the Incarnation, that he was a real man (as well as truly God). As a man, Jesus had placed the exercise of his omniscience at the discretion of the Father. Jesus was genuinely saying that if there was any other way, he wanted the Father to use it. He was not seeking to disobey the will of God, but in his manhood he desired to not suffer the shame of the cross and all it entailed.

“Take”

Jesus’ plea to “take this cup from me” was grounded in the fact of his absolute sinless purity, and the fact that the cup was filled with sin and wrath. The cup was steaming with a brew that was so awful, so fearful, so dreadful, so unbearable, so appalling, so horrendous that Jesus’ soul was revulsed and convulsed. How could he drink such filth? How could he bear his Father’s wrath? Though in the Upper Room he had declared that “this cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (22:20) and thus embraced his own death on the cross so he could give them the blessings of the New Covenant, he now recoiled at the personal horror he was about to endure.

“Yet”

“Father, if there is any possible way out, please do it—Yet not my will, but yours be done.” Jesus was caught between two proper desires. It is proper and good to want to avoid death, alienation, and wrath. But it is also proper and best to want to do God’s will, whatever the cost. Jesus chose the best!

And he did it all with complete sincerity. There was no ignorant devotion like that of Peter, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death” (v. 33). Jesus knew what he was acceding to. As he sincerely prayed that the cup be taken from him if it was the Father’s will, he just as sincerely prayed—though “every emotion in his heart, every fibre and cell in his flesh rose up against the prospect”—“Yet not my will, but yours be done.” But “Your will be done!” was the cry of a conqueror because “the man who does the will of God lives forever” (1 John 2:17). Jesus wanted the Father’s will more than anything!

Was Jesus’ prayer heard? Yes, though his request was denied. The writer of Hebrews, apparently referring explicitly to Gethsemane, comments, “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission” (5:7). His submission was “yet not my will, but yours be done.” That is the prayer God answers. Jesus’ prayer was a prayer of great faith because he trusted the Father with everything. All true prayers of faith end with, “yet not my will, but yours be done.”

THE DISCIPLES’ FAILURE (VV. 45, 46)

As we noted earlier, Jesus’ victory was bordered on either side by the failure of the disciples. “When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow. ‘Why are you sleeping?’ he asked them. ‘Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation’ ” (vv. 45, 46). Jesus was ready for the culmination of his mission and would soon stand before Caiaphas, before the Sanhedrin, before Pilate, before Herod, before his executioners, doing his Father’s will perfectly throughout. He was the paragon of fearless, loving strength.

But the disciples gave themselves to post-Passover sleep, brought on by their emotional exhaustion, and perhaps by their Passover feast. They had been so eager to fight God’s war with man’s weapons (22:38), but they now fumbled with a more essential weapon—prayer. Their immediate failures would quickly be there for all to see—their silly use of the sword, their wholesale desertion, denial by the bravest of them.

CLOSING REFLECTIONS

We have seen the depths of Jesus’ heart. What have we learned?

Prayer

We have learned that prayer is more than content—it is a process of relationship with God. True, we often get things we ask for. But most of all, prayer gives us God himself, and he gives us increased faith and obedience besides. We also have seen the importance of praying, “yet not my will, but yours be done.” Expressing our desires in the context of submitting to God’s will—God hears all such prayers!

We have learned, too, about the beauty of approaching God as our Father. “Father” signifies eternal relationship and protection by the one for whom all things are possible. “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32).

Submission

We see how submission is lived out. Jesus submits to the authority of the Father though they are equal (cf. Ephesians 1:2; 1 Peter 1:2). Jesus has never deviated from the Father’s will. He said, “I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him” (John 8:28, 29). Within the Godhead, this is, as Charles Williams noted, “a particular means of joy.” He added, “The Son is co-equal with the Father, yet the Son is obedient to the Father. A thing so sweetly known in many relations of human love is, beyond imagination, present in the midmost secrets of heaven.” Our submission is our entrance into this sweet joy.

Temptation

Prayerful waiting is the secret of not succumbing to temptation. The Scriptures promise, “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). But so often we miss the “way out” because we are asleep!

Death

We see that real death is due to God’s wrath for our sin. We learn the pain of sin as we observe Jesus’ revulsion at becoming sin—his plea that if there is any other way, the cup be taken from him. We see the oneness of God assaulted by sin. As Luther said of the cross, “Mystery of mystery, God deserts God.” We see the Son of God’s blood-like sweat and listen as he wrestles with death and wrath. We hear Jesus’ cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Blasphemy

There in the garden the perfect omnipotent Father listened to his perfect Son’s agonized pleading for an alternative way. And if there was any other way he would have done it. But since there was not, he willed his Son’s death.

What a blasphemous affront to God to think that sin does not matter!

What an outrage to imagine that we are good enough for God to accept us!

What a cosmic affront to hold that there is any way apart from Jesus!

What a slur to say that God does not care about us!

We join St. John in amazement: “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him” (1 John 3:1).

John’s Gospel says it all: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (3:16).

43

“When Darkness Reigns”

LUKE 22:47–53

To some, Jesus’ arrest in Gethsemane may look like his life had spun out of control.

H. G. Wells once said that the world is like a great stage production, directed and managed by God. As the curtain rises, the set is perfect, a treat to every eye. The characters are resplendent. Everything goes well until the leading man steps on the hem of the leading lady’s gown, causing her to trip over a chair, which knocks over a lamp, which pushes a table into the wall, which in turn knocks over the scenery, which brings everything down on the heads of the actors. Meanwhile, behind the scenes God, the Producer, is running around, shouting orders, pulling strings, trying desperately to restore order from chaos. But, alas, he is unable to do so! Poor God! As Wells explains, he is a very little, limited God.

Is that not what apparently had begun to happen in the Upper Room? The meal had peaked when Jesus held up his cup and declared, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (v. 20). The gleaming red wine sparkled with the ancient promise of a new heart and forgiveness of sins through his blood that was about to be shed for us.

But that evening Judas had refused Jesus’ extended morsel of friendship and went out into the night that for him would know no morning. He had expected a different Messiah, a Messiah with a sword. He had looked for a revived Israel riding high on horses and camels as a dreadful army to slaughter the Romans. He had expected the Messiah to sit on the throne of David with the universe as a cushion under his feet. But now he would see Jesus (and himself) killed—“Huge teardrop on the cheek of night.”

Inside, the Eleven fell to infighting like children in a sandbox—egos puffed with imaginary greatness. Jesus quieted boasting Peter with an unbelieved prophecy of his denial. And the Upper-Room conversation ended with the disciples’ stupid response, “See, Lord, here are two swords.” Dismayed, Jesus responded “That is enough” (v. 38).

Then, in the Garden such fear gripped Jesus that he thought he might die of terror before the cross. A great sweat fell from his body like hot blood coursing to the ground as he asked God to find another way if possible. Apparently his well-laid plans had gone awry.

Albert Schweitzer, the famous turn-of-the century genius—a musician (Bach expert), medical doctor, radical theologian—believed this. In his landmark book The Quest for the Historical Jesus (1906), he claimed to have ended the century-long search for the historical Jesus. Here is his conclusion in one of the most celebrated paragraphs in historical-critical theology:

There is silence all around. The Baptist appears, and cries: “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” Soon after that comes Jesus, and in the knowledge that He is the coming Son of Man He lays hold of the wheel of the world to set it moving on that last revolution which is to bring all ordinary history to a close. It refuses to turn, and He throws Himself upon it. Then it does turn; and crushes Him.… The wheel rolls onward, and the mangled body of the one immeasurably great Man, who was strong enough to think of Himself as the spiritual ruler of mankind and to bend history to His purpose, is hanging upon it still. That is His victory and his reign.

Schweitzer admired Jesus for his Bergsonian kind of life-force, as a strong man. Nevertheless he was, says Schweitzer, only a man whose mangled remains now flop like a rag doll on the wheel of the world.

Did the stage production get out of control? Is Jesus still hanging on the wheel of history? Further revelations from that night suggest otherwise.

JESUS’ CONTROL: LABELING JUDAS’ BETRAYAL (VV. 47, 48)

When Jesus rose from prayer the last time and stood glistening with sweat in the starlight, he was a fearless pillar of determination and mastery. He knew Judas would soon come. And now he could see lights coming toward the Garden. As he urged the disciples to pray—“Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation” (v. 45)—he could clearly see the quivering shadows and the flashing of bronze armor.

The Kiss of Judas

With Gethsemane over, Jesus was serene and in sublime control of all events, including his death. The approaching circumstances were no different, but he had perfect trust in his loving Father. “While he was still speaking a crowd came up, and the man who was called Judas, one of the Twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him, but Jesus asked him, ‘Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?’ ” (vv. 47, 48). Significantly, both Matthew and Mark describe the kiss. Mark says, “Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, ‘Rabbi!’ and kissed him” (14:45; cf. Matthew 26:49). At once Judas’ heavy-breathed mouth was pressed to that of Jesus. But Luke deliberately does not give the details, since for him the event is too monstrous to describe.

The word Greek translated “to kiss” is the same word for “to love” (philein). Thus we see the mocking horror of the gesture. This image of betrayal is one of the most powerful ever to grip the human imagination. It was a truly devilish, Mephistophelean act—a kiss from Hell.

The Love of Jesus

But despite the diabolical betrayal, Jesus reached out to Judas, much as he had done at the Last Supper. Though Satan’s agent, Judas was still a lost soul, and Jesus always cares about lost souls. The question Jesus asked combined foreknowledge with an appeal for repentance: “Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?” (v. 48). It was a poignant appeal. “Judas, how could you have chosen such a sign? Could you not have employed another way? Are you so dead, so beyond feeling, that you would use a kiss?” As the old preacher Alexander Maclaren put it, “Thus to the end Christ seeks to keep him from ruin, and with meek patience resents not indignity, but with majestic calmness sets before the miserable man the hideousness of his act.” In the middle of the night that would devour him, Jesus was not helplessly falling into the gears of history!

JESUS’ CONTROL: NEUTRALIZING HIS DISCIPLES’ IMPULSIVE ACTIONS (VV. 49–51)

Those spiritually dull disciples still had their two swords among them, and as we might have guessed, one of them was in Peter’s possession (cf. John 18:10). He was the one who had boasted earlier in the evening, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death” (v. 33)—and he was serious.

Luke gives the literal blow-by-blow description: “When Jesus’ followers saw what was going to happen, they said, ‘Lord, should we strike with our swords?’ And one of them struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his right ear” (vv. 49, 50). The question (probably Peter’s) was not really a question because before Jesus could answer, out came Peter’s macharia (the same word used for a Roman short sword), and with poor aim but great determination Peter whacked off the right ear of one of the high priest’s servants. Lucky for the man that Peter’s sport was fishing! Swords instantly gleamed blue under the night sky.

There was certainly no lack of heart on the part of Peter and company. Swordsmanship aside, Peter was a good man to have on your side. A soldier who served under George Washington, nicknamed “Mad” Anthony Wayne, is alleged to have told Washington, “General, I’ll storm Hell if you lay the plans.” The problem with Peter was that he did not listen to plans. He was more like the taxi driver who missed the directions and only heard the words “and hurry,” so he took off at high speed in the opposite direction of the destination. When the passenger asked, “Do you know where you’re going?” he answered, “No, sir! But we’re going there very fast!”

Peter’s move was pure stupidity. He was playing perfectly into the hands of the temple mob. Thanks to Peter’s impulsive violence, the authorities could now claim they had received an anonymous tip that Jesus and his armed followers were preparing for some guerrilla action. And when challenged, Jesus’ gang had attacked the authorities. Most of them had been killed, and the rest were on the run. And Jesus? He was just a political subversive. Good job, Peter!

Peter’s blunder had yet another grievous implication because later Jesus was to tell Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place” (John 18:36). Were it not for Jesus’ immediate mending of Peter’s errant sword-work, Jesus would not have been able to make this claim. Peter’s courageous violence was at cross-purposes with the divine plan. “Peter’s reaction was natural, the all too natural reaction of mere human nature, unprepared by prayer.” Peter’s embarrassing faux pas would never have happened if he had heeded the Master’s words, “Pray that you will not fall into temptation” (v. 40). Our human nature, unprepared by prayer, gets us into much trouble.

There is also a corporate lesson here—whenever the church has taken up the sword, it regularly has demonstrated that it does not know how to wield it, and as often as not has struck the wrong man. The sword is rightfully within the province of the state (cf. Romans 13:1–7; 1 Peter 2:13, 14), not the church.

Amidst the running blood and ringing swords Jesus called out, “No more of this!” (v. 51). Jesus’ words froze the action. He then reached toward the gushing wound, “and he touched the man’s ear and healed him.” This was a breathtaking display of power. The man’s right ear had been severed, cut clean off according to John 18:10. But now it was whole, and Malchus (named in John’s Gospel) gingerly felt it with his bloody hand.

Cosmic power flashed bright under the stars at the tips of Jesus’ fingers. Such mastery! Jesus at the very moment of his arrest, with blood on the ground and steel in the air, reached out to one of his enemies and healed him. Jesus is ever full of compassion. His act prophesied that his arrest and death would provide forgiveness and healing for those who would come to him. Is this a man being crushed on the wheel of the world?

Some feel that John identified the servant as Malchus because, as the early church held, he later became a Christian. In any event, Jesus controlled the circumstances of the arrest with majestic calm.

JESUS’ CONTROL: DEFINING HIS ARREST (VV. 52, 53)

Jesus certainly had their attention, and from that vantage he serenely defined the whole event.

The Defining Question

“Then Jesus said to the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard, and the elders, who had come for him, ‘Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come with swords and clubs? Every day I was with you in the temple courts, and you did not lay a hand on me’ ” (vv. 52, 53a). In the Upper Room Jesus had predicted that he would be classed with outlaws when he quoted Isaiah 53:12: “ ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors” (v. 37).

There is beautiful irony here. They could have taken him anytime they wanted if they had not feared the people (cf. 19:47, 48). In point of fact, they were the lawless ones, and his challenge questioned the legality of his arrest. They came under the cloak of night like armed robbers, their conduct an implicit admission that they were outside the realm of justice. Jesus’ question undressed his captors, exposing their naked guilt.

The Defining Statement

This done, he issued the defining statement: “But this is your hour—when darkness reigns” (v. 53b). The physical darkness of the night matched and covered the moral darkness reigning in their hearts. What Jesus called “your hour” was really three hours in one.

It was earth’s hour, in that it was the climactic moment when fallen human beings marshaled their forces against Jesus. Jesus, the light of the world, had come as the “Sunrise from on high” (NASB)—“the rising sun … from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death” (Luke 1:78, 79). But the Jerusalem authorities refused the light and sat stubbornly in the darkness. Their spiritual eyes were not “good” but “bad,” so that their entire beings were “full of darkness” (cf. Luke 11:33, 34). As a result of their resolute darkness and their eminent murder of Jesus, darkness would fittingly come over the whole land from high noon to 3:00 P.M. on the day of the crucifixion (cf. 23:44). This was fallen earth’s hour of dark infamy.

The “your hour” of earth was also Hell’s hour. In fact, the very language describing the hour “when darkness reigns” is used in other places to describe the rule and dominion of Satan (cf. Ephesians 6:12; Colossians 1:13). Earth’s hour was Hell’s hour because fallen humanity had become instruments in Satan’s assault against Jesus. The devil, who after testing Jesus at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry had left him for a more “opportune time” (Luke 4:13), now had his hour! The earthbound Sanhedrin may have thought themselves free when they condemned Jesus to death, but they were slaves of impulses that came straight from Hell.

When all is said and done, however, “your hour,” Earth’s hour, which was also Hell’s hour, was preeminently Heaven’s hour. In the Upper Room Jesus began his great prayer by saying, “Father, the hour has come” (John 17:1, NASB)—that “hour” being the destined hour for the events of the cross. Here in Luke the Passover meal was introduced with, “When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table” (22:14). Thus the “hour” for Jesus began with his self-giving at the Last Supper and culminated with his delivering his spirit into the hands of the Father. The suffering and death of Christ came in Heaven’s hour!

As earth’s hour played out, Jesus’ captors freely exercised their own sinful impulses in his ritual murder. But at the same time it was Hell’s hour because they were acting as unwitting agents of Satan at his time of grand opportunity. But ultimately it was Heaven’s hour because Satan was but an instrument in God’s great plan for the salvation of the world. Satan was the unwitting stage manager for God, and every fall and humiliation he choreographed for Christ was actually a step toward our salvation. A very limited and little God? We think not.

CLOSING REFLECTIONS

Albert Schweitzer’s words, though elegantly composed, are pitifully empty when set beside Luke’s account:

Jesus glistened as a pillar of majestic calm under the swirling stars. He received the heavy-breathed mouth of Judas—and then, again, went after Judas’ soul. Mark’s language portrays the kiss as mockingly passionate, using the intensive form of philien—kataphilien—“to kiss fervently.” The careful scholar Cranfield sees it as a prolonged kiss.10 The kiss dripped hatred, but Jesus went after his heart—“Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?” The demons howled, but the angels sang! Earth’s hour and Hell’s hour were both subsumed in Heaven’s hour, appointed before the foundation of the world. As Peter, so disgraced in that hour, would later proclaim at Pentecost:

“Men of Israel, listen to this: Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs, which God did among you through him, as you yourselves know. This man was handed over to you by God’s set purpose and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing him to the cross.” (Acts 2:22, 23)

There was silence all around because this night was the necessary prelude to Christ’s reign! There in the devouring darkness Jesus was victor.

And we share in that victory. A Savior who triumphs in his darkest hour can deliver his children from theirs. We can be sure, when our world spins out of control, that he is with us. We can be sure that the apparent evil we suffer will work out for our good and his glory. Joseph in his Egypt found it so. Paul in prison found it so. It is true for all of God’s children.

Who every grief hath known

That wrings the human breast,

And takes and bears them for His own,

That all in Him may rest.

—MATTHEW BRIDGES, 1851

44

Peter’s Plunge

LUKE 22:54–62

The Gospels are full of Peter! No disciple spoke as often as Peter. And of necessity our Lord addressed him more than any other of his followers. No disciple was reproved by Jesus as much or as strongly as Peter was, and he was the only disciple who thought it his duty to reprove Jesus! No disciple ever so boldly confessed and encouraged Christ—and none ever bothered our Lord more than Peter.

Peter was always talking—and his verbiage ranged from the ridiculous to the sublime. Sometimes he only opened his mouth to change feet, and at other times his words were immortal. Christ spoke words of approval and blessing to Peter, the like of which he never spoke to any other man. But at the same time, almost in the same breath, Jesus said sterner things to Peter than to any other of his twelve disciples, including Judas. All the Gospels testify to Peter’s primacy. In each of the four lists of the apostles given in the Gospels the order of the names vary, but Peter’s is always first and Judas’ is always last.

Shortly after Peter’s calling, when he observed the miracle of the great catch of fish, he cried, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:8). He was profoundly aware of his need. In answer to Christ’s question as to who he was, Peter’s immortal response was, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16). And yet a few moments later when Christ spoke of the cross, Peter foolishly replied, “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” (v. 22). Foot-in-mouth disease again! On that stormy night on Tiberias, it was Peter who bravely called, “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water” (Matthew 14:28), then a few moments later cried, “Lord, save me!” (v. 30).

It will always be to his credit that when the others abandoned Jesus, realizing he was not primarily a Savior of the material order but a spiritual Savior, and Jesus poignantly asked, “You do not want to leave too, do you?” Peter replied, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:67, 68). But it was also Peter who later on the Mount of Transfiguration, when Jesus shone like the sun, made the preposterous proposal, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah” (Matthew 17:4).

Later, in the Upper Room, John’s account records Peter as saying, “You shall never wash my feet” (13:8). Then, hearing Jesus’ explanation, he loudly reversed himself, saying, “Then, Lord, not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!” (v. 9). Finally, after the Resurrection his unforgettable devotion was memorably expressed: “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you” (John 21:17).

When I think of Peter, I imagine a broad-shouldered, loud, extroverted, assertive man who is always sweating. Lloyd Douglas’s title The Big Fisherman captures him for me. He was a headstrong, unbridled hulk who was always getting into trouble and causing his Master plenty of the same. Sometimes we preachers use him as a homiletical whipping boy. It’s great fun to portray “God’s clod” slipping below the waters of Galilee! But we forget that none of us have ever walked on water!

Peter’s sheer humanity makes him everyone’s teacher. As Clarence Macartney so well explained: “His impulsive deeds, his frequent questions, his eager exclamations and confessions, the praise and honor and rebukes that were bestowed upon him, his sometimes manly and sometimes cowardly acts, his oaths, his bitter tears—all this makes Peter the great companion and the great instructor of his fellow men and his fellow Christians.” The night of his failure is, perhaps, the most instructive night of his life.

PETER’S PRESUMPTION (VV. 31–34)

You will recall it was in the Upper Room, amidst the din of the disciples’ chest-thumping and bleating about who was the greatest, that Jesus unmasked Peter’s presumption. Peter reacted to Jesus’ prediction of his failure by saying, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death” (v. 33). It was a wholly sincere presumption—“I’m telling you, Lord, that right now I can do this. I’m a strong man, and if I put my mind to it, that’s it!” Peter meant it. He was no mere braggart. But it was dangerous presumption. Perhaps if angels were present, they winced and reflected, “Peter, you shouldn’t have said that—at least not like you did. Proverbs 16:18, Peter—pride comes before a fall.”

Alexander Whyte, the celebrated Scottish preacher, wrote: “Peter was born a supreme man. Nature herself, as we call her, had, with her ever-bountiful and original hands, stamped his (sic) supremacy upon Peter before he was born. And when he came to be a disciple of Jesus Christ he entered on, and continued to hold, that natural and aboriginal supremacy.”

We often see this kind of presumption in a naturally gifted athlete who finds it hard to listen to coaching advice because he feels no need. Sadly, the sidelines are strewn with has-beens who refused to learn from the wisdom of others and never developed the technique and understanding they needed. Perceived natural strength can be a disadvantage—especially in spiritual matters.

Peter’s fateful presumption was also aided by his intense love for Jesus. How could he love Jesus so and conceive of disappointing him under any circumstance? Unthinkable! But Peter was also just plain naive. He did not understand the spiritual Everest before him. He figured all he needed were some strong legs and a good pair of sandals and he could scale any spiritual peak.

It was hard to get Peter to see reality, but the Lord was adamant: “I tell you, Peter, before the rooster crows today, you will deny three times that you know me” (v. 34). Perhaps Peter sulked like a chastened puppy dog—“Just wait—I’ll show everyone …”

PETER’S OUTBURST (VV. 49–51)

When Peter had proclaimed that he would never desert the Lord, he was thinking, no doubt, of an attack by the Lord’s enemies. And Peter made good on his vow, because when the armed detachment came, and Judas so obscenely bestowed his kiss of betrayal, out came Peter’s sword. It was Peter against the world. Peter’s swordsmanship may have been less than Zorro-like. But there is another explanation. Malchus may have been wearing the traditional helmet that left the ears exposed, and Peter caught him atop the head and took off an ear. Peter was playing for keeps! Though impulsive and angry, Peter was willing and ready to take on the enemy. He was a brave man. “Lord, I don’t know about the rest of these ‘men.’ But at least you have me, and Judas and his friends are going to have to come through me. It’s just you and me, Jesus … I’ll lay down my life for you!” Peter saw red. His trembling sword would show no mercy. But Jesus’ commanding voice rang louder than Peter’s sword—“No more of this!” (v. 51)—as he calmly restored the severed ear.

Angry confusion fell like a shroud on Peter. He had been rebuked when he expected praise. Then came the sickening humiliation of Jesus in shackles. The night faded to a monochrome, and his mind gave way to a jostled gray kaleidoscope as he stumbled down the mountain after Jesus—unappreciated, embarrassed, despairing. Peter’s faltering stand foreshadowed his miserable plunge.

PETER’S FALL (VV. 54–63)

“Then seizing him [Jesus], they led him away and took him into the house of the high priest. Peter followed at a distance. But when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter sat down with them” (vv. 54, 55). In the dreary, damp chill of a spent night, Peter sat down amidst the enemy. Matthew says that he sat down with the guards “to see the end” (Matthew 26:58, literal Greek). He was overwhelmed with cold, dark, listless depression.

Peter was in dangerous company. One of the servant girls of the high priest’s household had been studying him. Perhaps the fire blazed up, revealing him more clearly, for Luke says, “She looked closely at him and said, ‘This man was with him.’ But he denied it. ‘Woman, I don’t know him,’ he said” (vv. 56, 57). Peter’s wording is similar to the Jewish ban-formulas—“I have never known you.” But formal or not, it was a lie, a bald-faced denial.

At this time most of Christ’s disciples had run off and abandoned him. Peter, to his eternal credit, had at least followed him. But in a foggy instant he had abandoned the battle. He gave the impression that if he was not one of the enemy, he was at most a mutual bystander. The lie had thrown its first coil about him and it began to tighten.

Because it was cold, as Jesus’ interrogation continued behind closed doors, those in the courtyard stayed close to the fire. The conversation ranged from one subject to another—the Passover crowds, yesterday’s fight at the barracks, the new dancing girl, this eccentric teacher from Galilee. Then came another accusation: “A little later someone else saw him and said, ‘You also are one of them.’ ‘Man, I am not!’ Peter replied” (v. 58). Another serpent’s coil slid about Peter. In his first lie he had denied knowing Jesus; in the second he denied being one of his disciples.

The coiled deception rested comfortably on Peter, imperceptibly tightening. “About an hour later another asserted, ‘Certainly this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean.’ Peter replied, ‘Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ ” (vv. 59, 60a). Mark’s parallel is more damning: “He began to call down curses on himself, and he swore to them, ‘I don’t know this man you’re talking about’ ” (14:71). Curled lips, flashing teeth, vile shouts of denial.

It was the moment of truth. In the heat of his denial, Peter was oblivious to the shuffle of feet as Christ was being led out into the courtyard—and certainly he was not prepared for the excruciation of the next moment. Dr. Luke tells us: “Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.’ And he went outside and wept bitterly” (vv. 60b–62). Terrible providence! Christ paused and looked right into the soul of Peter, and the tears coursed down Peter’s face like rain down a rock.

No one will ever know the hellish anguish that Peter went through during the next few hours and days! Something died inside Peter that night—Simon the natural man with all his self-assured presumption.

PETER’S PRESERVATION

The Lord was after nothing less than Peter’s perfection. And this final terrible encounter with the Master reveals what saved the apostle.

Christ’s Look

The cosmic pain that jolted Peter when their eyes met began the necessary process of remorse. Again he was “a sinful man,” as he had earlier called himself after the miracle of the great catch of fish (Luke 5:8). But the knowledge of what he was in his heart was stripped of any rhetoric. Its raw meaning was there to stay, with all its sanctifying potential. But the Master’s look did even more—it maintained the link between Peter’s soul and Christ. It was a knowing look that said, “Peter, it is happening just as I told you. Now remember it all! Because I prophesied more than your fall as the rooster crowed.”

Christ’s Word

Christ’s prophetic word in the Upper Room had foretold that Peter would be sifted by Satan’s temptation (v. 31), and the sifting process had shown that Peter was “mere chaff in the sieve of discernment.” Yet Christ was preserving him, so that only real wheat would remain. Peter was being made into a man of substance.

But there is more! Christ had said, “when you have turned back” (v. 32), prophesying Peter’s repentance. The message was clear: though through his denial he was a sinner par excellance, he would be granted repentance. And repent he would. Not only that, Jesus had said that when Peter turned back, he was to “strengthen [his] brothers.” He would have a ministry—a strengthening ministry. The “sinful man” would actually become a pillar of the church.

Christ’s Prayer

Of course, the grand redemptive power, the reason Peter had not been sifted into oblivion, the reason he repented and was restored, was Christ’s prayer for him: “But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail” (v. 32a). When Peter was indulging in his post-supper snooze in Gethsemane, Jesus prayed for him. In fact, Jesus had been praying for him since the beginning of their relationship. We all need the prayers of others—godly parents and siblings and friends. But behind all those prayers are the prayers Christ offers for us (cf. Romans 8:34; Hebrews 7:25). Even if those who love you are gone, Christ keeps praying for you.

Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (Hebrews 4:14–16)

PETER’S PERFECTION

All of this was meant by God to perfect Peter in the sense of maturing him. Of course, Peter never became perfect in this life. No one does! Evidence of his imperfections abound (cf. Galatians 2:11–14). Nevertheless, a massive perfecting took place in Peter in respect to his innate, fleshly presumption. From here on, the Scriptures record a different Peter.

A Fish Breakfast

Peter’s formal restoration came on the shores of Galilee when, after recognizing Christ at the water’s edge, he dove into the sea and came to sit wet around a charcoal fire with Christ (John 21). And there three times our Lord extracted an avowal of love, also commissioning the fallen apostle three times. After this Peter was never the same. Gone was the presumption. Gone was the arrogance. Gone was the independence. Gone was the self-reliance.

Pentecost

In their place was the power of God freely coursing through a broken, humble man—and it was awesome. Listen to the man who earlier cowered before a slave girl:

“Men of Israel, listen to this: Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs, which God did among you through him, as you yourselves know. This man was handed over to you by God’s set purpose and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing him to the cross. But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him.” (Acts 2:22–24)

Fearless power!

Death

After Peter’s restoration at Galilee, Jesus prophesied that Peter would die by crucifixion himself (“when you are old you will stretch out your hands,” John 21:18), using what became standard Christian language for martyrdom. The Church Fathers used the term as referring to crucifixion. There is significant support from tradition that Peter was indeed crucified—but upside-down at his request because he deemed himself unworthy to die like Christ.

CLOSING REFLECTIONS

God excels at perfecting his saints. Delivering us from self-sufficiency is a major function of the ups and downs of this life. Paul besought the Lord three times to have a certain affliction removed, but God answered, “ ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ [And Paul then commented] Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:9, 10).

Peter has been purposely portrayed by the Holy Spirit in Holy Scripture as a very human man to whom we can all relate. He is an archetype of those who have come to Christ in loving submission but with the passing of time have succumbed to independence and self-reliance. Peter is us! Peter’s experience is our experience writ large on the pages of Holy Scripture so that we will not miss it.

As C. S. Lewis said in Mere Christianity:

Though our feelings come and go, His love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference; and, therefore, it is quite relentless in its determination that we shall be cured of those sins, at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him.

He warned people to “count the cost” before becoming Christians. “Make no mistake,” He says, “if you let me, I will make you perfect. The moment you put yourself in My hands, that is what you are in for. Nothing less, or other, than that. You have free will, and if you choose, you can push Me away. But if you do not push Me away, understand that I am going to see this job through. Whatever suffering it may cost you in your earthly life, whatever inconceivable purification it may cost you after death, whatever it costs Me, I will never rest, nor let you rest, until you are literally perfect—until my Father can say without reservation that He is well pleased with you, as He said He was well pleased with me. This I can do and will do. But I will not do anything less.”

45

Jesus’ Religious Trial

LUKE 22:63–71

It is a fact that a mob will descend to deeper levels of cruelty than the individuals within the mob normally would if acting alone. The tradition of lynch mobs testifies to the corporate cruelty of otherwise law-abiding citizens.

Luke here describes Jesus’ becoming a victim of the corporate depravity of a bunch of bored guards. Jesus claimed to be a prophet, so how about a game of blindman’s bluff with an interesting twist? “The men who were guarding Jesus began mocking and beating him. They blindfolded him and demanded, ‘Prophesy! Who hit you?’ And they said many other insulting things to him” (vv. 63–65). Let the games begin! The other Gospels add that, bare-knuckled, they punched and slapped and slugged Jesus left and right and also spit in his face (Matthew 26:67, 68; Mark 14:65).

Religion is always good for a joke among godless men, and especially for a self-proclaimed prophet. The grim irony was that their abuse fulfilled Jesus’ own prophetic words: “He will be handed over to the Gentiles. They will mock him, insult him, spit on him, flog him and kill him” (18:32). The irony was further compounded because his prophetic powers had just been vindicated in the preceding event when Peter denied him three times, precisely as Jesus had predicted. Now the torture had begun, and Jesus stood in regal silence, dripping spittle and blood.

The religious establishment began to gloat. They had him at last. The populace of Jerusalem would soon awaken, but none would know what had transpired before Jesus was hustled off to the Roman authorities. “At daybreak the council of the elders of the people, both the chief priests and teachers of the law, met together, and Jesus was led before them” (v. 66). Torches were still flickering against the walls in the chilled judgment chamber as the light of dawn outlined the Mount of Olives. No doubt, it was a kangaroo-court Sanhedrin that glared at Jesus. Not all the members knew of the event, so some seats were empty. But, oh, their satisfaction as their disheveled, bloodied adversary stood before them. There they sat in concentric semicircles—a mess of beards, sly, sinister eyes, evil tongues. Their eyes were red with rage. Some shook with uncontrollable, delicious anticipation. They felt themselves in full control now.

But again they were deluded. Their hour of power when darkness reigned was in truth his hour of power (cf. v. 53). Jesus seized the occasion to again confirm who he was (with a formal declaration of his deity) before he died. Three of his divine titles were showcased before the Sanhedrin—namely, Christ, Son of Man, and Son of God. And it was done in such a way that they would only have themselves to blame for pulling the declaration out of him.

It was so fitting that the representative leaders of Israel, evil and truth-rejecting as they were, should hear at this crucial moment in salvation history the full assertion of Jesus’ full deity.

THE CHRIST (VV. 67, 68)

The Sanhedrin’s opening question cut to the quick: “ ‘If you are the Christ,’ they said, ‘tell us’ ” (v. 67). Luke’s Gospel leaves us in no doubt that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah. (The terms are synonymous. Both mean “anointed one.” Messiah is the Hebrew word, and Christ the Greek word.) The noun Christ is used as a title some twenty-five times in Luke.

The earliest themes of Luke’s Gospel, the birth narratives themselves, exude messianic identification for Jesus. Gabriel’s annunciation to Mary makes it explicit, though he does not use the word Messiah: “You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David” (1:31, 32). Jesus would be the Messiah because only the Messiah could sit on David’s throne. And when Jesus was born, the glory-dazzled shepherds heard the angel of the Lord say, “Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord” (2:11).

And when Jesus’ parents presented him in the temple, the man who swept Jesus into his arms and sang the Nunc Dimittis is described in this way: “Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Christ” (2:25, 26).

Later when people were wondering if John the Baptist might be the Christ, he demurred, saying, “I baptize you with water. But one more powerful than I will come, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (3:16). John saw Jesus as the Messiah.

And, of course, when Jesus asked Peter who he was, Peter answered, “The Christ of God” (9:20). Jesus himself attempted to get the religious authorities to understand that the Messiah must be divine by referencing Psalm 110:1 and asking them, “David calls him ‘Lord.’ How then can he be his son?” (20:44). So Luke explodes with the fact that Jesus is the Christ/Messiah.

But significantly, Jesus rarely asserted his messianic title and generally avoided the term Messiah, because the title was so politicized. In Jesus’ day the title Messiah was not generally thought to be a divine title, but that of an anointed agent, descended from David’s royal line, who would cast out the Romans and restore Israel. And that is what the people wanted. However, it was the one title that could get Jesus killed by the Romans because it smacked of rebellion. Rome could not care less if he claimed to be God. But Messiah? Watch out! So if the Sanhedrin could get Jesus to say it, he was a dead man!

Jesus, of course, knew he was a dead man, but he had some other assertions about himself he wanted to proclaim. So he gave them a non-answer: “If I tell you, you will not believe me, and if I asked you, you would not answer” (vv. 67b, 68). Jesus saw that it was useless to answer them, for they had already decided to reject whatever he said. They were not truly interested in considering the matter. Furthermore, their earlier prevarications, when he had asked them about the origin of John’s baptism, had demonstrated their dishonesty (cf. 20:1–8). Jesus’ deft non-answer was not a denial that he was the Messiah. In fact, he would openly embrace the fact that he was “the king of the Jews” before Pilate (cf. 23:3)—and that would be his epitaph over the cross. His non-answer here indicated that he was Messiah, but it did not give them the words to hang him—yet!

THE SON OF MAN (V. 69)

Jesus was and is Messiah/Christ, but he was a far greater Messiah than they ever dreamed, for he is also the Son of Man! And he let the Sanhedrin know it in no uncertain terms! “But from now on, the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the mighty God” (v. 69).

Son of Man was Jesus’ awesome title of choice. No one had given the title to him. Sometime in the process of Jesus’ coming into his full messianic consciousness, Jesus read of the divine being in Daniel 7:13—“one like a son of man”—who came on the clouds of heaven, and to whom the Ancient of Days gave “authority, glory and sovereign power” and also “everlasting dominion,” and he said, “This is me!” Jesus began to use Son of Man as a substitute for the personal pronoun “I.” The Gospels have eighty-two instances of its use, mostly on the lips of Jesus. Son of man encapsulated how Jesus saw himself!

The term beautifully expressed two huge realities of his earthly life: 1) his human mortality, and 2) his heavenly existence. As to his humanity, that title perfectly expressed the Incarnation and the paradox of his subjection to death. Immediately after Peter’s confession that Jesus was “the Christ of God,” Jesus said, “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life” (Luke 9:22; cf. 9:43b–45). As to his divinity, he was and is the awesome being to whom the Father gives everything. Upon his Ascension, he declared, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18)—a veritable bookend to the original bequeathal of “authority, glory and sovereign power” to the Son of Man in Daniel 7:14.

Jesus’ declaration to the Sanhedrin—“But from now on, the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the mighty God” (v. 69)—was a prophecy of his heavenly exaltation as Messiah at the right hand of God that would begin with his resurrection and be consummated at his Second Coming (cf. Psalm 110:1; Luke 21:27; Acts 2:32–36). At the same time, it spoke of his exercising ultimate judgment. The Sanhedrin, those who were then judging him, would one day see him as their eternal judge.

Indeed, Jesus is the Messiah, the King. But he is a Messiah before whom all politicized messiahs melt. He is “the Son of Man,” and “His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed” (Daniel 7:14). He sits at the right hand of God, and he is coming in the clouds to judge the world!

THE SON OF GOD (V. 70)

Those members of the Sanhedrin who were Biblically literate caught the drift of Jesus’ bold declaration, and their beards bristled and their eyes fired. The “son of man” of Daniel 7:13 was generally considered to be divine! So now all the assembly chorused, “Are you then the Son of God?” (v. 70a), hoping to catch him in blasphemy.

As with the title Messiah, the term Son of God was Jesus’ from the earliest chords of the birth narratives. In Gabriel’s annunciation we hear it: “You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High” (1:31, 32a). At Jesus’ baptism, “the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: ‘You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased’ ” (3:22). Twice during Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, the devil attempted to create doubt by saying, “If you are the Son of God …” (4:3, 9). And at the Transfiguration, as Jesus was enveloped in the Shekinah glory, “A voice came from the cloud, saying, ‘This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him’ ” (9:35).

Notwithstanding the exalted nature of the titles Messiah and Son of Man, the supreme title of Jesus is the Son of God. That title describes the unique Father-Son relationship within the Trinity. To be the Son the way Jesus’ incarnation was described by Gabriel is to be divine (cf. 1:35). The opening verses of John’s Gospel describe the relationship as eternal equality: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning” (John 1:1, 2). To be the Son of God is to be God!

Thus, in the next few hours when God “gave his one and only Son” (John 3:16), it was God the Son who was given for our sins. The atonement’s sufficiency would come from the infinity of the eternal Son. Thus Jesus serenely answered, “You are right in saying I am” (v. 70b). The Sanhedrin now had what they so wanted. “Then they said, ‘Why do we need any more testimony? We have heard it from his own lips’ ” (v. 71). Perhaps a red-faced Levite flew from the Sanhedrin in an uproar, eager to announce to a crowd outside what had just transpired. “The High Priest is tearing his robes! The criminal just said he is the Son of God! The elders are on their feet ripping their garments and shouting, ‘Death! Death!’ ”

CLOSING REFLECTIONS

Jesus demonstrated incredible mastery at his “religious” trial before the Sanhedrin. He said in effect, “If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to have to kill me for who I am—the Messiah, the Son of Man, the Son of God.” Jesus had been toying with them. He had what he wanted!

We must never forget that on the night before Jesus died, he proclaimed to the world that he was the Messiah, the long-awaited descendant of David who would sit on the throne. Furthermore, what he proclaimed went far beyond their dreams. He was a suffering, atoning Messiah. After his death and resurrection he said, “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” (24:25). He died as Messiah-King with the declaration “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews” penned in three languages above his head so all the world would know that he is Messiah (John 19:19). His kingdom rule flows from the cross. And this same person who went into Heaven will return on the clouds to judge the world (cf. Acts 1:11; Revelation 19:11ff.).

We must never forget that on the night before Jesus died, he declared that he was the Son of Man. He saw himself riding in the clouds to the Ancient of Days and receiving everlasting dominion. The Son of Man is both human and divine. It was the Son of Man who was judged to be a criminal that early dawn. And he is the one who will come to judge, and the judges of that morning as well as the whole world will stand at his bar.

We must never forget that on the night before Jesus died, he proclaimed that he was the Son of God. God the Son bore our sins. And that is why we have such hope.